Unplanned Changes
by teal-lover
Summary: Complete Chris changed more than he ever expected with his trip to the past, which in turn lead to more changes to his future. Series finale fix.
1. Chapter 1

Unplanned Changes

Chapter 1 of 2

By: teal-lover

Summary: Chris changed more than he ever expected with his trip to the past, which in turn lead to more changes to his future. Series finale fix.

AN: Major spoilers for season 8 finale because I hated the way it ended and Chris just seemed so unhappy.

Rating: T, PG-13 for some language.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or any of the characters or get any money from writing this fiction.

AN: I promise to finish to DYRWTK2, but that's so hard to write. Tomorrow, I should have another chapter or 2 of DYRWTK2 posted. Now on with this one.

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Chris flung the brute demon into the wall, wincing as it broke though the partition to the other side. He called out to his brother, currently trying to hide on the other side of the room, "Wyatt, come on, we have to get out of here!"

"I can't orb either!" he yelled back.

Chris ducked a knife thrown at his head and cursed in aggravation. He should have seen that one coming, but was distracted by Wyatt's defenseless position. He waived his hand and orbed his brother to safety, then followed quickly behind him.

"What the hell was that all about Wyatt?"

Wyatt glanced up at his brother with a casual grin that he knew would irritate the younger man. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he couldn't resist riling him up—one of his favorite past times. "It looked to me like we were loosing."

Chris glanced up at the amused expression wanting nothing more than to smack it off of him. Moments later, he found his own traitorous lips quirking up into an infectious smile. That was definitely one thing that Wyatt was good for—making him laugh even in serious situations. Though growing up, it did have the unfortunate result of getting them both into trouble for laughing at inopportune times. "No shit?"

"You're impossible. Ok, so how did you lose your powers? Did something hit you? A potion maybe—some kind of energy blast that drained them? Did you feel yourself losing them?"

"No. It was just when I went to use them, they weren't there. I do feel different now; like there's something I forgot to put on when I woke up. But I can't pinpoint _when _that actually happened."

Chris shrugged. "Ok, well we're never going to find out how until we find out when, so I think we should write a spell to take us to exactly _when _that happened."

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A short time later, Chris' eyes widened when he saw how young his family looked. And from their hairstyles, it probably wasn't that long after the first time he made a trip to the past. _Certainly wasn't expecting that._ He was about to voice as much when Phoebe spoke, and it wasn't to him. _Wyatt was the first name out of her mouth, as always. Paige only mentioned me because there really isn't anything left, is there? And mom—'what are you two doing here?' I died for this family and that's all they've got to say! _

He bristled at his mother's tone and said defensively, "Someone just screwed up our future!"

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An hour later, Chris was all too happy to be away from his mother and aunts as he sat with little Wyatt on his lap, rocking him back and forth trying to calm his own nerves. He was the only one not surprised when the toddler bared all of his teeth in a dimpled smile and reached out for Chris to pick him up. _He remembers me…_Chris smiled fondly.

The older version wrinkled his nose playfully and nodded to them, "Chris, please—you're scarring me for life here."

"Shut up and go pick up mini-me. He looks lonely over in the playpen by himself."

Wyatt grinned as he reached into the playpen, laughing outright as the baby gurgled happily, grasping the railing while he bounced up and down with excitement. "Mom was right, looks like you loved strangers."

"Well there's no one stranger than you, Wy. So that explains it."

Wyatt sat on the bed, staring at his younger brother curiously. "So how 'come grandpa remembers you and not me?"

Chris shifted uncomfortably, dipping his chin to avoid the intense stare. "Um…because—"

"…_Because _you came back to the past to fix something that you still won't tell me about?"

Huffing irritably at the familiar argument, Chris glared at the older boy. "I told you Wy, it's literally in the past. It's not important. Besides, it's none of your business."

"Well I think it is," Wyatt proclaimed stubbornly, his voice lowering in concern. "Whatever happened still bothers you, and that bothers me. So that makes it my concern."

"Just drop it Wyatt, ok?"

The blonde frowned before agreeing reluctantly. "For now…"

With both brothers rolling their eyes in frustration, neither noticed their grandfather back out of the doorway.

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Little Wyatt watched his little brother munching on his older self's shirt with rapt attention. He climbed down off Chris' lap and took the toddlers little hand. "Chris hungry," he explained to the older two as he headed for the kitchen, dragging his little brother behind.

They passed Victor on the way and he thumbed his finger at them. "Where are they going?" he asked the adult version of Wyatt.

The taller man beamed proudly and watched them go. "To the kitchen to get Chris something to eat. Looks like I've always taken care of the little squirt. Oh look, he's going to fix it himself. Ain't that cute. I was always a genius."

Victor stared at his oldest grandson incredulously before he shoved him after them. "Go with them! And they're too messy to be anywhere eating but in the kitchen, so stay in there with them—_please._"

He continued shaking his head and walked into the bedroom to find his youngest grandson. He held his breath for a moment as he watched the brunette staring pensively out of the window. There was a sadness that radiated off of his entire being. The slump of his shoulders, the soft, almost wistful expression that seemed to tell far more than his young years should ever know.

He made as much noise as possible so as not to startle him. "Your brother's a trip."

"Tell me about it."

Victor cocked his head sideways, silently observing the young man for a bit. Of course he should look the same, but the attitude, the personality, all reminded him so much of the other Chris. But his daughters told him that it was impossible. _That Chris _had been part of a future that died when he did. But he overheard the conversation with Wyatt. This Chris had time traveled. In his mind, that made it entirely possible and he decided to find out for sure. "So Chris, am I still an awesome grandpa?"

The flash of nervousness, mixed with surprise in those familiar green eyes was enough to tell him that he was correct in his assumption.

He quickly tried to hide the expression with denial. "I don't know what you mean, grandpa. You've always been cool."

"You don't have to pretend around me, Chris. I can't for the life of me figure out how—but I know you're him, my grandson that came to me two years ago. But if you're here, and the girls say it's impossible for you both to exist…well, can you at least tell me, what happened to that little baby that's in the kitchen most likely wearing whatever he's eating?"

Sighing loudly, Chris turned to his grandfather, his shoulders slumping sadly as he spoke. "I'm him. Just 23 years later."

"Then how—"

Chris' tone came out more bitter than he ever wanted to allow, but he felt at ease with his grandfather. And finally being able to share his secret with someone after so many long years of keeping it bottled up was cathartic. "Fate's idea of a big cosmic joke. 'Oh, here's an idea—let's give a five year old all of his memories of his past life. That way, he'll always know how much he screwed up."

"Chris, you're brother is good now. That has to be better than before."

He nodded his head, readily agreeing. "Of course it is. He's the best big brother I could have ever hoped for. Our world is even much safer from demons with him around—and don't tell him I said that, his head is big enough."

Victor laughed at the brotherly dig. He was glad that some things had worked out. But the way that Chris spoke and the sadness that seemed ingrained in him told a different story. "So what went wrong?"

Chris folded his hands in his lap while he stared down at the floor. If it were possible, Victor would have thought that the young man seemed even more despondent as a result of his question. He was too focused on the water pooling in his eyes and almost missed the soft-spoken voice that cracked ever so slightly. "I made them hate me. My family. I screwed it all up."

"Chris, no. No one hates you, especially not your family. We all know that everything you did, you did for your family."

"Well, maybe hate is too strong a word. I know they technically love me, but they don't like me. You forget grandpa; I have both sets of memories to compare to. And now, it's different this time than it was before."

Victor asked hesitantly, almost afraid to find out the answer. "What do you mean by different?"

"The first time, mom doted on me, almost to the point where it was annoying at times. I was the apple of her eye. I could do no wrong. Sometimes, I would just catch her staring at me—and I just knew she was thinking 'awe, how cute.' Sometimes she'd even say it. Then she'd run up and hug me as if her life depended on it. But in this one, she mostly just looks at me in disappointment. When she hugs me, it's like hugging a distant relative. It's only different if I've been hurt or something. Then she holds on tight—and it's almost as like it was before."

Victor sat up straighter in disbelief, fully prepared to defend his daughter. "Well, if she gets that upset, that doesn't sound like a mother who doesn't love her son. Maybe you're just reading more into it."

Chris shook his head sadly as he struggled to find the words he knew in his heart to be true. "I know she does. But loving someone because they're related to you isn't the same as liking them for who they are. The way she looks at me makes me feel like she wishes I were someone else, or that I hadn't turned out to be someone she didn't like. And if it were just a look, then maybe I'd think I was just paranoid. But—"

"But what Chris?"

Tilting his head curiously, the young man asked suddenly. "What powers did they tell you I had?"

Victor was taken aback by the sudden change in the conversation. The question seemed to have come out of the blue, but he decided to humor the young man to see where he was going with it. "Let's see: you orb. You do that tele-something."

Green eyes sparkled with amusement. He knew his grandfather would never quite get used to magic. "Telekinesis, grandpa. But that's not all. Wyatt may have gotten most of the heavy artillery, but I ended up with a Charmed power from each sister. Astral projection from Aunt Prue. Telekinesis from Aunt Paige. Freezing from mom. And Aunt Phoebe? Take a guess."

Victor's heart grew heavy when he finally realized what Chris' point was. He knew of his youngest daughter's power, and it was one that she often shared with him when trying to get him to admit his true feelings about anything. "Empathy, right?"

"You got it. They can't hide anything from me. Though I've never told them about it, so they don't know to take an empath-blocking potion. Wyatt's the only one who knows about it, but he swore he'd never tell."

He reached over and wrapped his arm around his grandson. He was beginning to understand why the young man seemed so melancholy, the frown almost permanently etched into his handsome features. He had a lifetime of hurt and despair that weighed on his shoulders. The older man didn't even need to prompt the younger to speak further. The words simply poured from his mouth faster than a white water rapid, as if it had been waiting a lifetime to be set free.

"It's the same thing with Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Paige. With them, it's completely different too. Like they just can't forget all of the things I did when I was here. With them, at least it was better when I was little. Before I started to grow into what I look like now. Back then, they could pretend."

"And Dad, I'm not sure what he gives me now is any better than before when he just ignored me all together. Now, it's like he thinks of me, but always second, almost as an afterthought. It's usually when he's teaching Wyatt something new, or they're sharing something Wyatt just learned—_but always_, he comes first. Dad's always said it was because Wyatt was the Twice-Blessed witch, and he's got to make sure that with all of that power—he uses it for good."

Victor listened with rapt attention, but the last statement caught him off guard. "Wait, I thought to be twice-blessed, you had to be the son of a Charmed One and Whitelighter. You're that too."

The young man shot him a wry grin, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "Technically, I'm the son of a Charmed One and an _Elder_. But yeah, you're right. I'm TB'd too. Not like anybody would ever remember that. Still, can you name one thing where second really counted for anything?"

Victor Bennett knew the feeling of being second best well. After all, _he wasn't Paige's father. _He allowed a small, sympathetic smile to grace his features. "So you feel left out…"

"Yeah, and I guess it hurts to know that after everything I did—that I only did it for my family, they still can't get past it. I feel their frustration when they look at me. And I feel how proud they are of Wyatt. He's always the first name out of their mouths when we're both in danger, or when they're saying hi to us. I'm always the afterthought."

"You know, they were never that way with Wyatt before. He always had just a little touch of evil in him, a harshness that made you want to run away screaming if you even thought about hugging him or something. But now, he's just a big goofy kind of guy—_fun loving_. So maybe, they only liked me before—that I was the favorite—because I was the only choice. Now that Wyatt is good, they don't need me anymore."

"And you've been living with this since you were five?"

"Pretty much."

"This has just been punishment, I guess. I time-traveled, messed with fate. No matter what the outcome, or how much better things are for the world in this timeline, I still changed something I wasn't supposed to change. So I don't get a happy ever after, but everyone else will."

"But it's not right…"

"Maybe not, but it's _my _life. And it's my penance."

Victor almost yelled in outrage, both at his grandson for being so accepting, and at his family for doing this to him. "_Penance for what! _You did nothing wrong. And there is no excuse for a family to neglect a child."

Chris shook his head adamantly. He furrowed his brow in genuine confusion. "They didn't neglect me. I've always gotten anything I ever wanted."

"Chris, emotional neglect is just as bad if not worse than physical neglect. I can't belief them. They all just make me so angry!" he hissed, pounding his fist into his thigh.

Chris' expression was gentle and calming, his tone light and airy. " It's not their fault. They don't know they're different. They don't even know what I remember. It would be too awkward. Grandpa, it doesn't matter. I'm 25 years old. It's in the past. And I've been thinking a lot lately about the future. I want to leave when I get back home. Get out on my own, someplace far away. Maybe start a family of my own. With someone who loves me for who I am, not in spite of it."

_In the past, huh. We'll see about that, _the older man thought bitterly. Before Chris had even finished speaking, Victor Bennett had already begun formulating a plan to change it.

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

Unplanned Changes

Chapter 2 of ?

By: teal-lover

Summary: Chris changed more than he ever expected with his trip to the past, which in turn lead to more changes to his future. Series finale fix.

AN: Major spoilers for season 8 finale because I hated the way it ended and Chris just seemed so unhappy.

Thank you to everyone for the overwhelming response to this story. It was such a pleasant surprise to find them in my inbox. Because of that, I've decided to extend the story—maybe not long, but at least a couple more chapters since I've got so many new wonderful ideas from your thoughts. I hope you continue to enjoy this story:)

Rating: T, PG-13 for some language.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or any of the characters or get any money from writing this fiction.

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_Last time…_

_Chris' expression was gentle and calming, his tone light and airy. " It's not their fault. They don't know they're different. They don't even know what I remember. It would be too awkward. Grandpa, it doesn't matter. I'm 25 years old. It's in the past. And I've been thinking a lot lately about the future. I want to leave when I get back home. Get out on my own, someplace far away. Maybe start a family of my own. With someone who loves me for who I am, not in spite of it." _

In the past, huhWe'll see about that_, the older man thought bitterly. Before Chris had even finished speaking, Victor Bennett had already begun formulating a plan to change it. _

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Victor was saved from having to answer his grandson's sorrowful response by Patty's enthusiastic entrance as she bounced into the room.

"Well, I've sat in there and sulked long enough over my _unfortunate demise_. So. What are you two boys up to?"

They glanced at each other knowingly. Victor nodded at Chris' silent communication practically begging him not to mention their talk to anyone. He rapped his hands on his thighs and stood up quickly. "Nothing, dear. Your grandson was just telling me that I am awesome! He didn't tell me specifics, but at least that's a start."

Patty studied the brunette carefully, not believing for one second that they weren't hiding something in the silent communication that had just passed between them.

She noticed his expression quickly changed and became guarded the moment she entered the room, but not before she recognized the familiarity in the soulful green eyes. Except for the color, they were so much like his mother's when she was a little girl and feeling troubled. She walked over to him and stroked his arm comfortingly while prodding gently, "Why so gloomy, my darling?"

Chris liked her immediately. He hadn't gotten the chance to get to know her very much in the future since she and grams didn't visit often. But the genuine concern she now showed to him—and him alone, made him feel special. It was a feeling that he hadn't experienced from a Halliwell woman in a long time, and it made his eyes light up with merriment.

He decided that if he chose his words carefully, he could be honest with her in them. She would never know the extent of their true meaning. "I'm anxious to get home." And he was. He just wanted to put all of this behind him. "I miss my family—the one's that I grew up with." There was no need for him to mention that he'd rather have his first timeline's family with him. All except for Wyatt, that is.

Victor heard the lies for what they really were—the sad truth. Patty was just eating them up, not having a clue what lay underneath them. He did though, and it was all he could do not to march right over to the manor and set them all straight. But that would betray the trust of the young man that so desperately needed it. He looked away instead, unable to watch Patty doting on him lavishly as she tried to soothe his discomfort.

It was too hard watching his young grandson soaking up the affection that he should have gotten his entire life. Victor likened Chris to a starving man wandering in the desert for weeks, and had just stumbled upon an oasis of crisp, clean water.

He blushed and pretended to roll his eyes, but he didn't fool anyone, least of all his grandparents. Victor was now more determined than ever that he wasn't going to watch this child grow up so unhappily. _First step—convince Wyatt to help…_

"Why don't you two get to know each other? I'm going to go and find little Wyatt and make sure he hasn't blown up my kitchen." Victor suggested.

Chris turned in her arms and shot him wide, genuine smile that held just a tiny bit of mischief. "In that case, you'd better also check on big Wyatt. Mom already knows not to let him in _her _kitchen."

Victor made a show of widening his eyes comically before darting out of the bedroom. He strode purposefully into the kitchen, stopping only when he saw the baby perched up in the highchair with his tiny hands and face covered in a gooey, peanut butter and jelly mix. He sighed loudly as the slightly older Wyatt tried unsuccessfully to wipe the baby's face. It may have worked if his own hands hadn't been covered with the sticky substance as well.

He couldn't help but laugh as he bent over and kissed each child on top of its heads, careful not to get messy himself. "Oh Wyatt," he muttered. He almost forgot about the adult version bending over the sink until he turned around in response, butter knife in hand and looking very much as messy as the younger two.

Victor's jaw dropped open in shock, "Let me guess, when you go out on dates—you don't take them to dinner?"

Wyatt grinned sheepishly at his grandfather. "For some reason, if we go to dinner first, they never last long enough to make it the movies. So we just tend to go there first."

"Good idea," the older man deadpanned before his eyes darted around quickly. He listened to make sure that they were indeed alone before he spoke quietly. "Listen, Wyatt—I need your help with something."

The blonde tilted his head curiously, the older man's movements having already drawn his suspicions that the conversation was turning toward his brother. "What's going on? Is this about Chris?"

"Yes. I need to ask you a few things, and I need for you to be honest with me."

Wyatt shrugged before answering evasively. "Depends on what you want to know. Tell me what it is and I'll think about telling you the answer. No promises."

Victor nodded reluctantly; still hoping that wasn't the best he could get out of the young man. "Am I still alive in your future?"

Wyatt shook his head immediately, "Grandpa, you know I can't tell you that. We're not supposed to tell someone that is going to remember when they die—or not. It could end up changing that fact—making them die later than they should, or worse—earlier."

"At least until Chris is an adult. How about that? He's 25 now, that's a lot of years in there that could still leave me wondering. It wouldn't exactly be telling me my age or the date, now would it?"

"Uh…I don't know Grandpa, I can't tell you anything specific about the future. Chris would kill me. I already spilled the beans about Uncle Coop."

Victor pleaded with his grandson, "Please, Wyatt. This is for Chris. You know I wouldn't be asking if this were for me. But even I can see that there's something wrong with your brother. Something that is hurting him so badly that he doesn't want to talk about it."

Wyatt's eyes darkened as he nodded in acknowledgement. "Do you know what it is?"

"Yes," Victor answered simply. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground by admitting that fact, but he could tell that Wyatt wasn't going to just go along with his plan willing unless he gave him some sort of peace offering in return.

"Then tell me!"

"I can't. Chris made me promise."

"Is this about when he came to the past before?"

"Yes."

"He's my brother—I deserve to know what happened to him that was so terrible. Ever since he was a little kid, he's come to me with every problem, every scraped knee, every question he had about girls, pretty much—he tells me everything, but not this!" Wyatt slapped the table in frustration. "Please grandpa, I just want to help him. Tell me, and I can fix this." Wyatt pleaded desperately, his eyes misting over as he spoke.

Victor watched the tall blonde struggling to contain his emotions even as he fought with his own. He felt absolutely horrible, having now upset both of his grandchildren. Only now, was he beginning to have second thoughts about what he planned to do. _How can I do that to Wyatt? It's obvious how much he adores his brother. _

Even the children had stopped eating and were now staring at him with wide-eyed curiosity after having felt the tension in the room. Just then, baby Christopher started to babble softly and reached out for Victor's hand. It was as if he sensed that his grandfather needed reassurance. _Maybe he did. He _is _empathic, _the older man thought with amusement. It seemed as if this child made it his life's goal to solve everyone else's problems. _Well it's time someone else solved his! _He thought again in determination.

Victor shook his head firmly. "No Wyatt. It's in the past. For you and for Chris, it's in the past. For me, it's the future. I'm the only one who can set all of this right, because I still have the chance to change things. But I can only do it with your help."

Blue eyes gazed down at the mop of brown hair and he touched it softly, causing the child to draw his head up. He giggled happily making his eyes curl up and dance with laughter.

Wyatt sighed wistfully. That smile rarely ever reached the brilliant green eyes of the older version back in the bedroom. He suddenly realized that he'd do anything for his little brother and the moment of indecision fled quickly. "How can I help?"

Victor Bennett practically jumped for joy, but he calmed himself at the last minute. His voice even managed to filter out with minimal cracking. "Uh—well. How long has he been like this?"

"As long as I can remember. He's always just had this sadness about him. I make it a point to make him laugh as much as possible. Doesn't last long though. I still remember when I took this psychology class when we were in high school. I showed mom and dad my textbook and said, 'look, this describes Chris. He's always sad like that. We can get him help.' They just kept insisting that there was nothing wrong, and that he's been like this his entire life. '_Babies don't get depressed_, _so it's just his personality'_. But seeing this little guy right here—it's not, is it Grandpa?"

"No, it's not."

"I didn't think so. I always kind of figured it that it had something to do with what he kind of let it slip one day. That he had come to the past to save me, but he refused any details. No matter how much I ask him, that's the one thing he would never tell me. And it's the one thing that always makes him sadder than normal."

Shaking his head emphatically, Victor answered, "But it's not normal. I knew him when he came back to the past. And he wasn't like this."

"I believe you. Grandpa, I'll help you. Tell you whatever you need to know. But first—and I swear—I won't say anything. First I need you to tell me what's wrong. Why is he like this?"

Victor wasn't sure what he was going to say, but his younger grandson storming into the kitchen glaring at him heatedly stopped any words from forming.

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

Unplanned Changes

Chapter 3 of ?

By: teal-lover

Summary: Chris changed more than he ever expected with his trip to the past, which in turn lead to more changes to his future. Series finale fix.

AN: Major spoilers for season 8 finale because I hated the way it ended and Chris just seemed so unhappy. Ok, so it's a day late. Sorry?

Rating: T, PG-13 for some language.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or any of the characters or get any money from writing this fiction.

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Chris looked from both his grandfather to his brother, his accusatory glare making them shift in their seats uncomfortably. "What the hell did you two think you were doing?"

Victor defended, "I thought I was helping you Chris. I just want to give you the life you've always deserved."

Chris pursed his lips angrily, shifting his focus to the blonde. "And you, why can't you keep your big nose where it belongs—_which is out of my business!"_

Wyatt ignored the tirade since he'd already been caught, deciding to confront the issue head on. He sat back in the chair and folded his arms. "I've got news for you little brother, you _are _my business. Chris, you won't talk to me, what else was I supposed to do? I saw an opportunity so I took it."

"You're _supposed _to respect my privacy and my wishes when I ask you to stay out of something!"

Wyatt frowned for a moment before explaining seriously. "Well maybe you're just not familiar with the Big Brother Code. Title 5, subchapter 6, _clearly states _that big brothers have the inherent right to trample all over their little brother's personal liberties, if said action is purely in the interest of said little brother."

Chris tapped his foot impatiently while trying to maintain his anger. But Wyatt's half serious statement had him doing the same as always--caving in with a grin on his face. He turned to his grandfather and asked, "When it's time to go back to the future, can I leave him here?"

The blonde only laughed with relief. His younger brother had never managed to stay mad at him for long. He pointed to the baby, "That's fine, Chris. I'll just have mini-you to annoy for a whole lot longer."

The brunette whined to his grandparents and groaned dramatically, "_Do you see what I have to put up with?"_

Victor hated himself for interrupting the brief moments of levity, especially since Chris had seemed so angry when he stormed in. Time was simply running out and he had to get permission from both brothers before he could set his plan in motion. He still had no idea how either would take it, but he had to try. "Well, Chris, it could have been worse," he said pointedly.

He frowned with the memory of the other version of his brother and admitted softly, "Yeah, I guess so."

The blonde noticed the sudden shift in mood and he relied once again on the familiar argument, confident that this time, he may finally be in a position to win it. "Chris please? I only want to help. So help _me understand."_

Chris sighed loudly, deciding that if he didn't pick and choose what to tell him, it was a possibility that someone else would beat him to it. Wyatt would be told more than his brother wanted to reveal. He knew the elder witch just wouldn't take it very well if he found out that he was evil.

But if he spoke first, he could control the flow of information and stay Wyatt's curiosity. He shrugged in resignation, telling his grandmother and then his brother, "You're not going to remember so it doesn't matter if you hear, and Wyatt, you're just not going to like it."

Chris took a deep breath and admitted some of the events that he had denied adamantly since his brother had begun to suspect over a decade prior. "Yes, Wyatt—you've always thought it, and you were right. _I did _go to the past to protect you from someone that was going to hurt you. I went back to when you were about 6 months old because I found out that this person was involved in our lives even back that far…"

A half an hour later, Chris had told his watered down version of the truth. Victor couldn't fault him though—if he could get away with telling Wyatt as little as possible and still satisfy his curiosity, he would have done the same. Now he sat and listened to the tennis match of a conversation between the two brothers with Chris answering the questions on his side, arms folded defensively, and Wyatt posing them on his side in disbelief.

_"I don't even remember you even leaving."_

Chris smirked, "That's because you weren't exactly yourself back then."

"Then why don't I at least remember you coming back?"

"Because I didn't."

"What? How's that possible then if you remember?"

"Because it's officially a past life now."

Wyatt laughed as if he finally understood a joke that he wasn't in on before. "Yeah, right. Chris, you can't have a past life until you die first." When his brother didn't contradict him, the smile vanished and his hands began to tremble. His heart was beating wildly and breathing suddenly seemed more difficult than it had a moment ago.

As quickly as it began, Wyatt felt himself relaxing with each passing breath and knew it wasn't the result of anything he had done. He turned to the counter to find sea green eyes fixed on him intensely, and knew immediately that the younger witch was projecting the calm that surrounded him like a warm blanket.

When it was over, Wyatt read the expression in his brother's face that said _'You worry too much._' He answered the silent communication with an amused grunt. "Yeah, I know, I know."

Victor shared a glance with his former wife, wondering just what had occurred between the two young men, and it was obvious that something had.

She spoke first, "What just happened?"

Wyatt sighed softly, wishing for probably the hundredth time in his life that he had inherited that ability. That way, he could have eased some of his brother's sadness. But he did the best he could with what he had—humor. It worked some of the time, not nearly enough in his opinion. He tried not to dwell on the negative emotion long enough for Chris to pick up on it.

He explained, "Chris is empathic. And that's a secret by the way. It's probably enhanced by his whitelighter half—"

The brunette interrupted and threw his finger up, "Excuse me, that's uh—_Elder half_…"

"You just _love _to rub that in don't you?"

He winked back, "Every chance I get, Bud."

"Ok fine, it's probably enhanced by his _Elder half—_and it allows him to project thoughts and feelings to those around him. I think he finds it particularly useful on me." The blonde finished with a wry grin.

"Well if you didn't run around trying to leap off tall buildings with your _Big-Brother-Cape _on all the time, I wouldn't need to."

"Oh, you're a fine one to talk about overprotective brothers. Chris, _you died _for me!"

The younger witch shrugged again, his expression humble and a bit dismissive. "It's not like I did it on purpose. Dying was never on my list of _to-do's_."

"Thank—"

Chris cut his brother off sharply, "Don't. _Do not _even _think _about saying that. There is nothing to thank me for. It was no big deal. Besides, you would have done the same for me."

"But Chris—"

"No, Wy. I don't want to talk about it."

The older man persisted, "Dying is a pretty big deal, Chris. Now I get why you'd be so out of sorts."

The brunette snorted. "Dying has nothing to do with it. Sure, it hurt like a bit—"

"Christopher!" Patty admonished again about his language.

"Sorry. It hurt—a lot. But I got over it. And by the time I remembered in this life, it didn't make one bit of difference."

"Then what did, Chris?"

"Well, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

He raised an eyebrow in a challenging look. "Try me."

Chris hesitated nervously, not sure how to tell his brother what had bothered him for as long as he could remember.

His grandmother inched over to him, patting his knee in a comforting gesture. Her smile seemed to encourage him as if to say 'it's alright.'

"Ok, first off—I just want to make it clear that what I'm about to say does not refer to you guys in this room. So I guess my point is, do you know how I said that I remember growing up both times?"

Wyatt nodded and gestured for him to continue.

"Well, some things were _better _before."

"Like what?"

Green eyes sought out those of his grandfather in a desperate plea for help.

Victor relented and filled in what his youngest grandson was not able to admit to his brother. He tried to keep the anger and disappointment out of his voice, but knew it was futile as he heard his own steely tone. "_He means _like his family. That doesn't apply to you Wyatt, or you Patty, or even Penny. It's the rest of them."

Chris spoke softly, "Not Uncle Coop or Uncle Henry. And not any of the cousins either. Just Mom, Dad, Aunt Phoebe, Aunt Paige."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I," he said, casting his gaze to the floor. He looked up with a sad smile as his baby self reached out for him, whining softly in frustration. He looked into his own eyes and tried to convey to the child to cease his efforts, but he only whined louder and began to cry. He hopped down off the counter and kneeled in front of him, hoping that a verbal response would help him understand. "Sorry little guy. But if projecting to yourself did the trick, I would have done it on myself a long time ago."

Unable to stand idly by and listen to the baby's distraught whimpers any longer, Patty grabbed a dishtowel from the kitchen counter and draped it over herself before reaching down to pick up the messy toddler.

She moved to his older version, still kneeling next to the highchair and kissed him on the top of his head. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears as she apologized. "If my daughters are the reason for your pain, I am so sorry, sweetheart. And I don't think I can stand here and listen to you telling me any details without wanting to go over there and give them all a good swift kick in their rear ends. So I'm going to go and get the little ones cleaned up and put them down for a nap. Call me if you need me."

Chris nodded gratefully and pulled himself up into the chair vacated by the child version of his older brother. Victor moved the highchair and placed another chair at the table between his grandsons for himself. "Go on, Chris. Tell him how things were different."

He nodded compliantly and began repeating much of what he had spoken earlier to his grandfather.

Wyatt listened in shock, his mouth hanging open now that most of the behavior he had observed by his family his entire life had begun to make sense. It did seem that they favored him over Chris.

Growing up, Wyatt had always been the ringleader for any of the schemes and clowning around that got them both into trouble, yet Chris was always pegged as the instigator. The family, especially his parents, tended to scold Chris with those looks of disappointment that disheartened the boy more so than if he had been physically disciplined.

They always seemed to be on the lookout for things the boy _might potentially _have done wrong, instead of what he had _actually _done right. That had always bothered Wyatt about his family. The lack of fairness in those actions had forced him to defend his brother on countless occasions as a result.

Now that he could pinpoint a reason, he could also recall that each successive incident like that had caused his brother to withdraw further into himself. It was as if they had reached in and siphoned a tiny piece of his soul with every emotional blow.

"But Chris, I don't understand. How could they be that way after everything you did for this family? For me."

"Because I never told them who I was when I came back. I couldn't without risking my own birth, you know? But when I was here, I did a lot of things I'm not proud of. A lot of things that made them not trust me. Made them not like me."

Victor retorted angrily, "That's no excuse." Wyatt nodded in agreement, while Chris defended them again.

"The end doesn't justify the means, Grandpa."

"And as far as they know, you're a completely different person. They don't have a clue that you remember any of that. Yet they've been punishing you for those actions—_actions that saved their family and their lives by the way—_since you were a baby! Don't forget that I remember that Piper died when you were 14 in that original future. And I'm guessing that since you never mentioned them to me, that Phoebe and Paige were dead too?"

Chris nodded, trying to avoid the concerned glances his brother kept shooting him.

Victor slapped his palm against the table, arguing further so that Chris would see his point. "So once again, you pulled their butts out of the fire. You saved this entire family, and the world with every one of those actions you're not proud of. Well, I'm proud of you, Chris. And I'm not ashamed to say it, even if they are. And another thing, Chris--stop defending them. _Because I see it_. Every time I go to pick up my grandchildren, and even though they don't do it on purpose, I see the way they distance themselves from that baby—you Chris. And it pisses me off because you don't deserve that. Even your brother can see it, can't you Wyatt?"

The blonde nodded in agreement. "Chris, I understand now. And that can't be the way it's supposed to be. It just doesn't make sense. I don't want that for you, I never have. And I say if Grandpa has a way to make things right, we should at least hear him out."

The brunette laid his head down on the table, tempted to bang it against the surface repeatedly. The two men on either side of him were equally as stubborn, and he wasn't sure how to get himself out of this one. '_Didn't they understand that nothing they could possibly say to Leo and the Charmed Ones could undo the damage he had already done to their relationship?' _

He sighed loudly, the glass table looking even more inviting as Wyatt began humming the theme song to Jeopardy.

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

Unplanned Changes

Chapter 4 of ?

By: teal-lover

Summary: Chris changed more than he ever expected with his trip to the past, which in turn lead to more changes to his future. Series finale fix.

AN: Sorry it's been so long—but I've been out of commission with a sprained hand in a splint. It's off now, so I'm trying to catch up. Just one other note—I started typing this with it on, so if you find any glaring typos—blame it on the one handed peck & type:)

Major spoilers for season 8 finale because I hated the way it ended and Chris just seemed so unhappy.

Rating: T, PG-13 for some language.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or any of the characters or get any money from writing this fiction.

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Wyatt beamed happily, "Times up Chris. Either you're going to let us help, or you're not going to let us not help. What's it going to be?"

Chris lifted his head and stared at his brother incredulously. The older man had a nasty habit of ruining the English language with double negatives. If he didn't know better, he would swear that the elder witch did it on purpose just to annoy him.

He should have known that once he had shared that tidbit of information on the past, Wyatt would latch on to it with a relentless determination that would make him give in out of sheer exhaustion. "Fine, Wy. I'll listen, but I'm not making any promises," Chris warned before turning to his grandfather. "So Grandpa, what's your idea--and I'm telling you right now--I _do not want them to know _that I remember_."_

Victor cocked his head inquisitively. "Why wouldn't you want them to know?"

"Because that will change how they act, how they teat me."

Wyatt shared an equally confused look with his grandfather as they tried to understand the younger witch's reasoning.

Chris tapped his fingers on the table, waiting expectantly for them to nod in understanding. He glared at the blonde when he started to laugh.

"Ok, perhaps that made sense in _Chris' world_, but to the rest of us mere mortals—uh, wasn't that kind of the point?" Wyatt asked humorously.

The brunette rolled his eyes, "No," he answered a little too quickly, then amended, "Well yes. But that's not the way I want it. I mean, would you want someone to change the way they felt about you out of a guilty conscience? Because you know that's all it would be. I'm empathic, remember?"

Wyatt was thoroughly confused now. "Yes, you are. And that's what I don't get. You've had the ability to change the way they feel about you your entire life, yet you've never even bothered."

"Right. And I suppose you'd want someone to like you just because you made them like you. I'd rather them be honest in their feelings than to live a lie that I made up."

Finally, Chris got the nod of understanding that he had been waiting for. He wanted to make sure that there could be no misunderstanding, so he spoke firmly. "Just in case you've forgotten what I said earlier—I _do not_ want them to know. Now Grandpa, what's your idea?"

The older man bit his lip, shrugging in mild amusement. "Well, I had several, but you just shot most of them down. One of my other ideas was to do a spell to make them see how unfair they are to you, because talking to them is like talking to a brick wall. I've tried over and over again to get them to change, but the only things that happen are: 1) they deny it, 2) they don't believe it, or 3) they just flat out tell me that I'm imagining things."

Wyatt shared a knowing glance with his younger brother before laughing softly.

Victor eyed the two strangely and felt as if he was missing something between their silent communication again. "What!" he demanded impatiently.

"Grandpa, it's just that we've heard that argument a million times before. In the future, whenever you're arguing with mom and dad, nine times out of ten it's going to be over Chris."

"_Don't tell me how to raise my son!"_ Chris raised his voice dramatically in a perfect imitation of Piper. It seemed that he had a lot of practice doing it because the sound, facial expression, and body movement was so much like that of his mother, that Victor could picture his daughter saying them.

Wyatt laughed, adding the rest of her sentence in his own high-pitched tone, "_It's not like you're Mr. Voice of Experience not having raised ANY children!"_

Chris stopped laughing and frowned suddenly, reprimanding his brother with a light smack on the back of his head.

Wyatt winced as he realized that he may have inadvertently insulted his grandfather. "Sorry Grandpa."

With an exasperated sigh, Chris shook his head. "Yeah, don't mind Wyatt. Now you know why he orbs everywhere. He has a hard time walking with his foot in his mouth all the time."

Victor shrugged it off easily. "Don't worry about it boys. It's no secret that I would never win any father of the year awards while my kids were growing up. I left my girls when I couldn't stand the idea of them being involved in a magical life that would likely get them killed. It doesn't excuse the fact that my girls grew up without me in their lives, even if I didn't agree with their lifestyle. But I don't intend to make that mistake again with my grandchildren."

Chris gave the older man a shy smile before answering. "We know grandpa. You've always been a major part of our lives, especially mine. So don't worry, you're still awesome."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that, because that leads me to my other plan."

"Which is?" the younger man prodded.

Victor smiled nervously, then let his words run together as he sped through them. "I-want-you-to-come-live-with-me."

"You want me to what?" Chris practically yelled.

Victor cleared his throat nervously and repeated himself calmly. "I said I want you to come live with me. Your baby self. Right now, until you're an adult--or as long as you want."

Even Wyatt frowned at that. "But Grandpa, we've always been together. We work well as a team. And besides, I'd miss the little rug rat."

"I'll get a house close by, and he'll only be an orb away from you guys. I don't want to separate the two of you; I can see how close a relationship the two of you have."

Chris shook his head, "I don't know Grandpa. How is that going to help?"

"Because _I _would be raising you. I remember what you told me about the original future. If I'm still awesome, I guess that you were happy when you were with me?"

Chris pursed his lips in deep thought, avoiding his brother's intense stare. "Yeah. But it wasn't all bad. Most of the family was cool, even Wyatt here."

Wyatt's eyes drifted down to the floor while he mumbled sadly, "Yeah, but Chris--he's got a point. You've always been happier when you were spending time with Grandpa. It's almost as if you can forget about the way they treat you when he's around. But it's usually only when _they're _not. So I guess it kind of makes sense."

His tone dejected and his mouth hanging open in disbelief, Chris stared at his older brother. "You--you want me leave?"

Wyatt shook his head immediately, "No, of course not. But I just want you to be happy. We could always still hang out. I mean, if you want to. And of course we'd still do vanquishes together, probably still go to the same school and all--right Grandpa?"

"You bet. I would never want to come between you two in any way. I'd never take Chris and run away somewhere or anything. I'd make sure it was in walking distance for you guys--even if you don't really need it with the orbing and all. But look at your mom and her sisters. Paige didn't grow up with them. In fact, she didn't even know them back then and they still are as close as if they known each other from birth. They came together as adults."

Victor smiled as both young men seemed to brighten up after that, and it encouraged him to go on. "And I'm sure you'll both indulge an old guy and graciously spend weekends at my house in the future, right?"

"Of course."

"Then you'd both be together all the time. You just wouldn't sleep under the same roof every night. But what's to stop you from orbing over any time you felt like it?"

"Nothing," they both chimed in happily.

"So what do you say?"

_'If Wyatt is ok with it, maybe it could work'_, Chris perused thoughtfully. His face fell as he thought of something else and he pouted. "It doesn't matter what I say, Grandpa. You know how stubborn mom is. She's never going to let you basically raise me. I think even dad would protest over that one, so what's the point even asking?"

Wyatt frowned in agreement, then brightened with another thought. "Maybe not with just Grandpa asking, but if all three of us give it a shot, then maybe we could work on them?"

"And just what are we supposed to tell her? I already said I don't want to tell them about my past self. And you really think they're going to believe that they'll be anything less than perfect over the years?"

Wyatt shook his head, instantly formulating a plan to counter Chris' argument. "They will if we tweak the projection spell. They won't see the actual future, but they _will _see how miserable you've been as a result of how they've acted. Who knows, maybe that will even be enough to get them to change."

"Not likely. They're going to see me here, and see that I turned out ok. They'd never believe that this whole problem has anything to do with them. You forget Wyatt; I've known them a whole lot longer than you have. I've known them in two lifetimes, plus I got to know them when I came to the past. They just don't think like that. Not that they don't take responsibility for their actions, but most of the time, they tend to look for other reasons that have nothing to do with them." Chris said in irritation, thinking back to how his family refused to believe that Wyatt could have been evil. No matter how hard he tried, even after they discovered his identity, he was still usually the bad guy whenever he mentioned it.

He took a deep breath and sighed loudly. His mood turned sour as soon as he began thinking about his family's actions over the years. He couldn't even begin to count how many times in his life that he had pretended to be sick or hurt just to get his mother's attention. All of it done just so that he wouldn't feel like she was pre-judging him. It was almost as if she was just waiting for him to do something wrong or slip up somehow.

He recalled one particular time...

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_"Chris are you ready yet?" his mom called upstairs. "Wyatt's ready to leave you. Come on, you're going to be late. You know the rules about orbing--you don't get to do it unless it's an emergency."_

_With the widest grin the twelve-year-old could muster, Chris threw the covers off his legs, mumbling a spell that flushed his cheeks. He quickly began to sweat as his body overheated and he stood in front of the mirror, holding his midsection as if in pain. He moaned pitifully and began a slow trudge down the stairs. "Mom, I don't feel so good."_

_Piper took in his appearance and her eyes widened with worry. She rushed to meet him halfway and touched the back of her hand to his forehead. "Chris, honey--you're burning up." She wrapped her arms around him and began leading him back the way he came. "Come on, it's back to bed for you."_

_Chris turned his head behind her back, partially grinning at his brother from the top of the stairs as Wyatt shook his head and headed off to school… _

_The younger boy knew that his mother would dote on him all day long while his brother was away at school. It wasn't as if he didn't want to go, but it had been awhile since he tried anything like this. He didn't want her to get suspicious by doing it too often. Now, the prospect of spending time with her, free from judgment and full of warmth, was simply too inviting to pass up. _

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Wyatt snapped his fingers in front of his brother's face, irritated that he had apparently zoned out. "Hey! Chris! Anyone home?"

Chris blinked a few times as he pushed the memory away. He again thought about the possibilities and seemed a bit hesitant, "I still think we should try your other ideas first. We should try a spell. If it doesn't work, then we'll try your other option, Grandpa."

Wyatt raised an eyebrow in confusion. "How are we going to know if it works or not? When we go back to the future, nothing may have changed. And then what?"

"I guess we'll just have to do a little time traveling, won't we?" Chris said with a smirk.

Wyatt was surprised with the suggestion. He wrinkled his nose curiously before smiling with amusement. "Are you kidding me? You're the one who is always forbidding everyone else to time travel because it will 'mess with the future too much'. And how many times have you done it?"

The brunette looked up at the ceiling, ticking off on his fingers the amount of times he remembered traveling through time. "Let's see, there was the trip back to save you; the trip forward when you _requested _my presence; the trip back again to finish the job; this trip to get your powers back; and we still have to get home. So that's only what, five times? I'm pretty sure you don't hit the limit until you run out of fingers."

Victor wasn't a fan of anything supernatural, but he readily agreed since it would benefit his youngest grandson. "Exactly. It's for a good cause, so that makes it ok. So I'll work on them for—let's say, three years from today's date and you guys will go back to the future. That way, we'll still have time to change things before Chris' baby self starts to remember the past life. If things are ok, then you boys don't have to come back. But if nothing changed, you guys will come back and help me convince Piper and the gang. Until then, we say nothing to any of them in the mean time." He held out his hand to the younger man first and asked, "Deal?"

Chris took the proffered hand and shook on it in agreement. His brother followed his action.

Both young men confirmed at the same time, "Deal."

The younger of the two leaned over and clapped his grandfather on the back, "No offense or anything Grandpa, but I hope I don't see you in three years. I still have hope."

Victor nodded sadly at the genuine hopeful expression in his eyes. He hoped that they would listen for his sake too. But the Charmed Ones weren't known as the most stubborn witches of all time for nothing. But they hadn't gotten it all from their Halliwell genes, either—so Victor fully intended to make the most out of the three year opportunity. "Understandable, Chris." He decided that that was enough sadness for the moment, and stood up with a cheery smile. "Now, how about some ice cream? It sure does wonders for the little ones."

"Yeah!" they chimed in and jumped out of their seats, sounding much like their younger counterparts.

It was a familiar tradition with their grandfather in the future. Whenever one of them was having a problem, he would help them solve it, then suggest mulling it over with a bowl of chocolate ice-cream—vanilla for Chris. They made sundaes with all of their favorite toppings that Victor made certain to keep on hand. Wyatt, having been taller of the two boys, would always dig out the bowls; Chris grabbed the spoons and toppings, while Victor dug out the sweet delight.

"I told you he was awesome," Chris teased and stuck his tongue out at his brother.

Wyatt shared the childish amusement and elbowed the younger witch, playfully pushing him out of the way to receive the first helping as Victor dipped into the ice cream. "Don't ever change, Grandpa. After every tradition we've had at home, this has still got to be the best I've ever been a part of."

"Def..initely," Chris agreed through a mouthful of chocolate.

Victor was surprised at Wyatt's confession and Chris' shared sentiment. Having been spurned from a family wrought with traditions, particularly their Wiccan heritage, he would have thought that the boys would have found something along those lines to be fonder of. He was bursting with pride at the moment, and he wiped his misty eyes. "Wow. Boys, I'm flattered. I don't know what to say…"

Chris slid another bowl in front of his Grandfather, "How about _dig in?_"

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

Unplanned Changes

Chapter 5 of 6

By: teal-lover

Summary: Chris changed more than he ever expected with his trip to the past, which in turn lead to more changes to his future. Series finale fix.

AN: I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to reply individually to the last chapter, but it was just before I went away & things just got kind of hectic. I will get them out over the next few weeks though. Thanks for your patience.

One more chapter to go…

Rating: T, PG-13 for some language.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or any of the characters or get any money from writing this fiction.

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Victor Bennett loved art. He would so enjoy his Sunday outings with his grandsons, introducing them to all forms of modern and ancient art. Though only toddlers, ages three and four, the boys seemed to enjoy the bright colors and wild designs of some of Victors favorites.

He had even taken them to a children's exhibition where a few artists demonstrated their craft to the miniature enthusiasts, and had even gotten to join in a few times. The bright wide-eyed, matching grins the boys wore as they covered their hands in the swirling paints before setting their mark on the canvas, was simply priceless as he shared their excitement at the time.

In retrospect however, perhaps it was too early for them to embrace the idea of canvas or even paper. He was now fairly sure if it while his mouth gaped open at the formerly pristine white walls of his spare bedroom. _Formerly, _because the walls were now covered with a colorful array of modern art—courtesy of the young Halliwell brothers. But then, so were the children that had created them.

At first, he had no idea where they had even gotten a hold of the paints, but one glance at the older conspirator told him all he needed to know. The little boy glanced at him guiltily under a veil of rainbow streaked hair, ignoring his younger brother smiling back proudly at the handprint he had just added to their masterpiece.

Victor tried to look stern as he walked over to the dresser, but as he dragged the camera out, both boys giggled helplessly as their grandfather happily promised loads of blackmail material in their futures.

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The night before Chris was due his fifth birthday, Victor sat back on the couch smiling wistfully at the picture from the day his grandchildren decided to add color to his bedroom. He had left their artwork on the walls, christening the room as officially his grandsons' whenever they visited.

He was relieved, but still saddened that his future grandchildren had not returned. It meant that things had worked out for the better, and all of his constant nagging at his family had brought about the change that was needed. Chris' life must have been better this time around, and for that he was grateful.

On the same note, Victor felt an immense sadness that he hadn't expected come over him. He fingered the outline of the tiny features on the photo. It all meant that he would not be getting a chance to see that bright, smiling face every day in the future. As grandfather as opposed to guardian, he would have to settle for occasional overnight stays and even fewer weekend visits as the boys grew older.

He slipped the picture in his pocket and rose from the couch, flipping the switch on the wall as he headed for bed. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dark and he padded down the hallway.

Victor spun around at a loud thud behind him, quickly followed by an equally loud grunt of "Ow!" His ears perked up hearing another familiar voice murmuring in amusement, "You're such a moron. You're the only one I know who can fall over a couch in a room he's been in his entire life."

"Shut up. It's dark in here," the indignant voice answered back.

"And that couch has _never _moved."

"It's a _different _couch."

"In the _same spot_…"

Victor flipped the light switch, staring at his grandsons looking exactly as they had the day they left for the future. "If you two ladies are done bickering…Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

Wyatt jumped up from the couch and wrapped his arms around his grandfather. "Grandpa, you were right. _It didn't work_."

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Victor Bennett led his adult grandchildren into the kitchen and motioned for them to sit down. "You boys are late. What happened?"

Chris explained, "Sorry Grandpa. We were all set to go but a couple of darklighters had other plans. It took us a few more minutes to get rid of them. Minutes there equals weeks here. We didn't want to re-write the spell that late and risk anything going wrong."

"Fair enough. But you do know that little Chris is turning five in a little under an hour. You're still going to get the memories of your old past." Victor warned.

"I know, grandpa. But that was never something that we intended to change. It doesn't hurt any. Besides, it's been helpful over the years. It's like I've had advanced knowledge of potions, spells, and demons so I get a head start."

The older man furrowed his brow in concern, "But what about the bad parts?"

Chris shrugged, "Well, it's going to be rough for a while—just until little me figures out that he's not going crazy. But now that you know, you can help him adjust a whole lot sooner."

Victor looked taken aback, but nodded in compliance shortly after. "Ok. If that's what you want. But I guess now the big question is, what happened? Did anything change _at all_?"

Wyatt clenched his fists angrily. "Oh, it changed all right. Not them of course. The only thing you ended up accomplishing was that they thought you were just becoming a crazy old nag. So then, they stopped letting us see you as much. Most of the weekend visits went out the window."

His eyes widened in disbelief. "What? So that means that Chris just ended up spending more time with them?"

"Yep. That means you weren't around as much to help him, and I couldn't either. Time travel doesn't work that way, so it's not like I remembered."

Victor turned to the brunette, "I'm so sorry, Chris. My intention was to make things better for you, not worse."

The empath flashed a warm smile at his grandfather before covering his hand with his own. "It's ok, Grandpa. It's not your fault. You did the best you could."

Nodding gratefully, his attention shifted and he stared at both of the young men for a moment.

Wyatt shared a look of bewilderment with his younger brother before he finally broke and questioned the older man. "Ok. I give. Why are you staring at us like that?"

"I'm sorry. It's just that you look exactly like you did when you left three years ago."

Chris laughed, "Well I should hope so. It was only a few days ago. _Time travel, remember?_ We only had to stay there long enough for our altered memories to catch up. Luckily for us, it was just about the time when you wanted us to come back."

"Oh. So what do we do now? Do you boys want to try the spell, or do you just want to shoot for asking your parents if you can live with me?"

Wyatt shook his head immediately, sharing a pointed look with his brother as if to ask for approval. With Chris' nod, he continued. "Actually, while we were there, we came up with a third option. We uh—we want to see if there's a specific reason for all of it."

"_Now why_—" Victor bellowed incredulously before he clamped his mouth shut and leaned in the chair. He carefully studied the brunette who lowered his head and apologized while darting nervous glances at him. He also noted the way Chris shrunk back slightly, the submissive gesture startling his grandfather more than he cared to admit.

It was all because Victor had raised his voice slightly. Perhaps it may have sounded a bit disappointed, but he wasn't. It was just his native posture when engaged in a debate. But Chris obviously didn't take it that way. He was so unlike the young man he had met almost 6 years ago.

Gone was the confident—if not somewhat cocky—bold, assertive, and enthusiastic young whitelighter. Back then, he had radiated an energy and determination that would make you think, 'I know he's going to succeed.' Now he seemed like a mere shadow of his former self.

Chris had learned to suppress any of his natural responses, _altering _his personality in favor of conforming to his family's mold for him. Victor guessed that a lifetime living with a constant fear of disappointment was enough to cause such a drastic change. That thought made him curse inwardly, fuming with anger as he pounded his fists on the table. His actions clearly startled the younger two because they jumped a bit in surprise.

While Chris seemed to withdraw a little, Wyatt glanced at his brother in concern, then growled out, "_Grandpa_!"

It took Wyatt's protective warning before Victor even realized that in his anger, he had probably just done the same thing to Chris that he was subjected to all of his life. The customary disapproval had obviously made him skiddish.

He immediately apologized with a sorrowful expression. "I'm sorry Chris. It's not you—not at all. I promise. I'm not angry with you. I guess I let my temper get the best of me every time I think about how they've treated you."

The brunette offered a tight-lipped smile and shrugged it off as if it didn't bother him. But the intense gaze and barely concealed hurt told a different story. "It's ok. So I guess you don't like my idea?" He asked hesitantly.

Victor shook his head emphatically, "No, it's not that I don't like your idea. I know you want to find a reason, like a spell or something, so we can fix it right?"

"Well yeah."

"But what if there isn't one? What if that's just—how they are. How they want to be. What if you don't like what you find?" he pointed out, wanting to make absolutely certain that Chris and Wyatt knew what they were possibly getting in to.

The empath stared at the table pensively while he considered the questions. He looked up earnestly, "_I still want to know_. If there's a better explanation than just—just me, I guess. And because of what I did."

Victor relented with a loud sigh. "Well, if you're sure. I assume that while you two were in the future, you cooked up a spell to see this?"

Wyatt nodded vigorously while flashing them both a bright smile. "Actually, _I did._"

Victor had to grin right back with the way his shoulders straightened and his chest puffed out proudly. He was going to question it, but Chris beat him to it.

"Actually, Wyatt is terrible at spell writing. He once turned Uncle Coop into, of all things, a—"

"_Don't!" _Wyatt warned his brother and drew his fist back.

Chris paused then nodded. He lowered his head and looked sufficiently chastised for all of two seconds before he ducked back with a grin. "A rooster." He swerved a few times playfully as Wyatt tried to punch him in the arm, but the short table distance didn't allow him to go far. He laughed when it landed on his upper arm, rubbing the sore spot as the blonde narrowed his eyes and reached up to do it again.

Chris held his hands up in surrender, "Ok, ok. I was also going to say that this one was really good and I think it will work."

Wyatt narrowed his eyes skeptically, "_Really?_"

Chris tilted his head and asked innocently, "Would I lie to you?"

"Lie to me—no. Leave things out? _Absolutely._"

Chris was about to protest, but thought better of it as he nodded in concession. "_Yeah_, ok. But not this time."

Victor had to smile at the friendly banter between his grandsons. After the original future that he heard about and how the two were always at odds, it was nice to know that they finally had a good relationship. And if worse came to worse and he was denied the ability to be a significant part of Chris' life, at least he would always have his big brother. "So, do you guys want to do this now, or get some sleep first?"

Wyatt yawned dramatically. "I want to sleep first. It's in the past anyway. It's not going anywhere."

Victor grinned mischievously as he stood up and led them toward the spare bedroom. He imagined the looks on their faces when they got a look at their handiwork. "No problem. I've got your room _all ready _for you…"

_Now if he could only find the camera…_

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Unplanned Changes

Chapter 6 of 7

By: teal-lover

Summary: Chris changed more than he ever expected with his trip to the past, which in turn lead to more changes to his future. Series finale fix.

AN: This is almost it folks. When I started typing this up, I figured out it was too long, so I broke it up.

Rating: T, PG-13 for some language.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or any of the characters or get any money from writing this fiction.

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Victor Bennett laughed at the antics of his adult grandchildren as they argued over who would say which part of the spell. When they finally agreed on that, they argued over whether or not to go back to the past with an invisibility cloak spell. Wyatt wanted it, Chris didn't.

It didn't look like they were going to solve that issue any time soon, so Victor stepped closer and made a decision. "Wyatt, I understand why you want the cloak—you don't want to make changes were they're not necessary. But we do still need to be able to make changes when we find them if it relates to this. I don't see any other way to interact with them otherwise. The point is not to see what happens just to come back here and tell them how wrong they were. We want to stop it. Right then and there."

Wyatt finally nodded and Chris poked his chin out gloating a bit playfully.

Victor shook his head worriedly as he stood between them and took each of their hands. "How do you two ever get anything done?"

Wyatt grinned, "When we're by ourselves, we make decisions quickly and don't argue. But when we've got you around as a buffer—"

"We fully intend to use you. You are ever the peacekeeper." Chris finished happily.

The way they completed each other's sentences so easily was a testament to how well they worked together. Victor suddenly realized that their little banter was more of a game than anything else and didn't hinder their progress in dangerous situations. He should have known not to worry.

The boys completed their spell, and before Victor knew it, they were in the past, crouching behind the wall on the upstairs landing while Piper stood in the living room.

The eldest Charmed One thought she heard something and looked up toward the stairs, but saw nothing. She shrugged it off as her imagination and went back to what she had been doing.

Piper stood with her list in hand, studying it absently before she put it away. She was relieved that there were no names on the parchment that were familiar, but it still brought back a recent memory that she tried to push to the back of her mind.

The angel of death popped in behind her, and she turned, opening her mouth as if to say something. It held on the tip of her tongue as she thought about how to phrase her query.

He tapped his foot impatiently and wondered why his temporary recruit wasn't doing any recruiting. "Are you waiting for an invitation, Piper?"

"No. I just have a question for you."

"Then ask so you can get back to work."

"Were you—were you the one who came for my son?"

The angel smiled back wryly as he crossed his arms behind his back. "Why Piper, you've been the one saying all along that he's alive and well upstairs in his playpen."

She shook her head gently, "Don't play games with me; I am not in the mood. I am quickly discovering that being an angel of death gives you a new perspective on life and death. I know now that there is a very real possibility that he would have simply died. Just like the little girl I was supposed to have. Please—I just want to know if he was ok?"

"I can't tell you."

"I know you that you know," she countered determinedly.

"I never said I didn't. I merely said I can not tell you. There are some of life's mysteries that must remain that way until our own time."

She looked down sadly and he conceded reluctantly, "But I can tell you that, no. Your son wasn't due to be on my list for several years yet."

Piper frowned worriedly, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know what that means."

"Are you saying that Chris is still on your list? Soon?"

"He will be no child, if that's what you mean. But barely into adulthood. But you must know that that is the life of a witch. And even more so, the life of a Halliwell witch. He is a little tiny version of you, Piper—_stubborn_, _defiant, single-minded_—that fact alone dictates a short life span."

She shook her head adamantly as she wiped the tears from her eyes, "No. You're not taking him. Chris is going to die an old man in his sleep surrounded by great grandchildren or something like that."

"If you say so…" the angel responded in a patronizing tone. "You can't change his fate anymore than you can stop him from being a witch or a whitelighter. It's _who he is_. And I don't intend to tell you any details of his death so that you can sit around trying to thwart me from doing my job at every turn. Now get back to work or I will make your temporary death permanent."

He disappeared before the young mother could counter anything he had to say.

Before the three future visitors could process what was said, they faded from view just as the young mother looked up again. Shrugging as she saw nothing out of the ordinary once again.

Piper resumed her temporary duties as angel of death, all the while planning ways to circumvent him.

Months later, she had her answer.

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Piper sat with her hands in her lap, nervously awaiting her family's arrival. She had a called a family meeting to discuss Chris' future.

Leo took her hand and stroked it comfortingly as her sisters sat down on the couch opposite the couple.

Phoebe tilted her head in concern. "Piper, honey—what's wrong?"

She took a deep breath before answering. "Well. You remember how I told you what the angel of death said about Chris' future?"

Paige chimed in as she wrinkled her forehead in confusion, "How could we forget something like that. But honey, there's no need for you to worry about that right now. We've got time to change it. He already said that Chris wasn't a child. Just young.":

"Well, I'm his mother, so of course I'm going to worry. Look, I'm not willing to wait however long that is—just to find out too late that my baby is going to die before his life ever has a chance to begin."

Leo nodded in agreement. "What do you want to do, Piper? Because I'm not willing to lose him again either."

Piper stood up and paced a bit, trying to feel a little more in control of the situation with the height difference. She knew that her idea wouldn't go over well and she tried to work up the courage to say it aloud. "Well, Phoebe—you know how when you get premonitions, and it's easier to change the outcome if you know why you're doing it in the first place?"

The empath shared a suspicious look with her baby sister before acknowledging the oldest of the three, "Yes."

"Ok, well, the angel let it slip that the reason that Chris dies is because he's quote—just like me—"

Paige interrupted curiously, "What, do you mean, a witch?"

"That too. But he specifically said '_stubborn_, _defiant, and single-minded_'. Not that I'm agreeing that I'm like that or anything. But just for the sake of argument, you remember how the other Chris was. He was just like me. That's probably why we butted heads so much before we knew who he was. The angel was telling me that because of who he turned out to be, _that's_ why he's destined to die. Just like he did before."

Leo frowned in confusion before his anger began to settle and he raised his voice. "I don't get it, Piper. So what are you saying—that Chris' behavior is what got him killed!"

"Not exactly—"

Leo stood up in outrage, ready to walk away from the conversation before he said something that they would both regret. "I can't believe you! After everything he did for this family, you're saying that it was his own fault that Gideon murdered our son!"

Piper reached for her husband's hand, but he snatched it back angrily. The hardened glare on his normally gentle features dared her to touch him again. Conceding, she gave him his space but still pleaded with him. "No, just please, hear me out Leo. You can't deny that he did things as our whitelighter—dangerous, life-threatening things—that would have had us locking him in his room and throwing away the key had we known he was our son."

"He had good reasons for everything he did, Piper."

"I don't deny that, Leo. But my point is—it came naturally to him! He was a risk taker. Bold, daring, loyal almost to a fault."

"Those are noble qualities, Piper. I can't take credit for it, not after what he told me. But it's how you raised him. What's wrong with that? He was a good man. More than I could ever hope for in a son."

"I know that. But he was never cautious. Or concerned about his own life. Always putting someone else above him. It was all about 'the mission' for him. And that's what got him killed. He died fulfilling 'his mission'. And he'll do it again. He'll die young, and this time, we won't get a second chance with him."

Phoebe looked confused, "So what are you suggesting?"

"Raise him differently this time. If we can change his behavior, we can prevent that from ever happening again."

"How are we supposed to do that, Piper?"

"Go against your instincts when dealing with him. Going with them is what made him who he was to begin with. It will force him to become someone totally different."

Leo's jaw dropped incredulously. "This is your brilliant plan, Piper?"

"I am not going to lose him again," she said firmly.

Victor stepped forward and revealed himself, "If you continue on that path honey, you _will _lose him anyway."

"Daddy? Where did you come from?"

"The future. And it's not looking so bright where I come from."

Paige stood up and stepped in front of the advancing older man since he was making his way toward Piper. Her tone was cold and the cloud of mistrust was evident on her features. "Victor? If it's really you. How did you get here? Just because you're the father of witches does not suddenly give you the ability to time travel like one."

The eldest Charmed One's expression suddenly went from confusion to wariness as she brought her hands up threateningly. "She's right. I know for a fact my father is currently vacationing in Europe. If you've hurt him, I swear I will blow you up into a million little pieces one body part at a time—"

Wyatt ran out from his hiding place and stood in front of his grandfather just as she motioned to blow him up. He threw up his shield to encompass the older man and his brother that trailed directly behind him just in case. "Take it easy, Mom. _We _brought him."

Victor nudged him to let it down and he asked her, "Do you believe me now?"

She lowered her hands easily and placed them on her hips instead. "Well yeah. I suppose it helps with my two future children showing up right behind you. And the shield is a dead give away too."

The blonde grinned as he stepped back and lowered his trademark shield.

"What are you doing here?"

Victor glanced at his grandsons and quickly took in the fact that while Wyatt stared back at him expectantly, Chris hovered behind them, slouching shyly. It seemed that now that they could interact with the rest of his past family, the doubt had crept back in and all hints of defiance vanished.

He clenched his teeth angrily and looked at his daughter. The same thing that all of your family does when they do a little time hopping—fixing things that aren't right."

Piper fixed a hard stare on her two sons. _Wyatt obviously isn't evil, and Chris is still alive, _she thought. _So why are they back?_ "I don't understand, the boys look fine. What's happened?"

Victor's eyebrows rose at the mention that the boys looked fine. Chris was anything but. He snorted audibly. "Not from where I'm standing. Look, Piper, we're here because of what you're talking about right now."

Piper glanced at the other and tucked her hair behind her ears in a nervous gesture. Her cheeks reddened guiltily and tried to deny it. "I don't know what you're talking about, dad."

Victor ground his teeth angrily as he caught her eye. He didn't even turn his head to face them as he commanded his adult grandchildren, "Boys, would you excuse us for a bit, please?"

He knew that his anger had built up over the years and was now promising to spill out. Even at their age, he still felt the need to shield them from it. But at the same time, he wanted to make a point. He could always relay anything of importance to them later.

Wyatt looked about ready to protest, but Chris followed the harsh command without question, just as he had been programmed to do. It was certainly not a Halliwell trait, and definitely not the Christopher that he had met the first time around.

It broke his grandfather's heart every time Chris bended to someone's will so easily just to please them. And it was all because of this little plot that Piper had just hatched. "Don't play dumb with me, Piper. I know that you're planning on ruining my grandson's life!"

She threw her hands on her hips and cocked her head indignantly. "I am not going to _ruin _my son's life. _I am trying to save it_! And by the looks of things—well, let's just say that Chris is at least, what, mid twenties?" Piper questioned.

Leo moved to stand next to his wife. He put a hand on her shoulder, the two of them presenting a united front. "Victor, I wasn't fond of the idea at first either, but it looks to me like it's worked. Chris is still alive and well."

"Alive, but not well," Victor scoffed. "He's not _Chris _anymore. He's not the same young man I met almost two years ago."

Phoebe smiled at him sadly, "Of course he's not the same, Daddy. He's a different person. The one you met is gone. We're all the sum of our experiences, and his life is better this time around."

"Well I beg to differ. He may not be trying to save his older brother this time around, but his life is definitely not better. This thing that you plan on doing—it's destroying him. One piece at a time. Can any of you even imagine what its like to go through your entire life thinking that your own family can't stand you? And that nothing you do can ever please them, but you're determined to keep trying anyway?"

Piper turned to walk away from him dismissively, "Daddy, you're over-exaggerating. He looked perfectly fine to me."

Victor waived his hands around wildly and yelled in frustration. "Damn it Piper! Just go and talk to him. Spend an hour with him and you'll see just how miserable you've made him his whole life."

"I don't need to talk to him."

"Why? Are you afraid of what you'll find?" her father countered.

"Of course not. I know this will work. And you coming here and bringing him safe and alive has only strengthened my resolve."

Seeing that he was getting nowhere with his oldest daughter, Victor turned to the others and softened his voice imploringly. "None of you have a clue what you're about to do. You have _no idea _the kind of emotional damage you're going to do to that boy. He's a sweet kid, but he's just so—broken. I don't know how else to describe it, but just watch him. Talk to him. Take notice of how his shoulders naturally slump every time he's around any of you. Or how he jumps or looks startled every time he even thinks you're going to tell him he's done something wrong. There is so much sadness in him that no one would ever believe that his life hasn't been as tragic as the last one."

Phoebe, Paige and Leo glance at each other nervously, the doubt clearly reflecting in their eyes.

Paige turned to the eldest Charmed One, "Well maybe we could—"

Piper shook her head adamantly and cut the younger witch off. "No, Paige. I am not going to loose my son just because my father doesn't like the fact that he grew up to be a little bit moody. It's not exactly a surprise. Chris was moody the first time he got here. Look, we're not doing anything wrong guys. We're not going to abuse or neglect him or anything horrible like that. We're simply going to curb his reckless behavior. And that's a natural part of raising a child. We just need to be focused in our resolve to guide him clear of those destructive behaviors that will get him killed. What's wrong with that!"

Victor was floored. He had pleaded his case in the hopes that he could convince them, but it seemed that Piper had done a better job of pleading hers. He knew that she was persuasive, and as the oldest Charmed One for so many years, she was a natural leader.

He ran tired hands through his salt and pepper hair, his expression one of defeat as he looked to the others nodding in assent of her argument. Any hopes he had left of convincing them were dashed as Piper looked up to the ceiling and called out in her no-nonsense tone, "Chris, Wyatt."

Within seconds, blue orbs filled the room as the brunette appeared obediently.

"Where's your brother," she demanded tersely.

The young man stood there and gaped like a deer caught in headlights and unwilling to admit that he didn't know. He was spared from having to respond when another shower of orbs appeared next to him. His brother was frowning at the shorter woman in a slight show of defiance.

Victor smirked. Apparently, his oldest grandchild didn't like being summoned. Or maybe he was trying to make a point? Perhaps they were eavesdropping and heard what he had said about Chris' behavior.

Wyatt caught his grandfather's eyes and gave a barely perceptible nod. _So he was trying to demonstrate how eager his little brother was to please. Definitely out of character for the younger witch, _Victor thought as he mentally commended the maneuver. Though it appeared to have accomplished nothing as the boy's mother stubbornly refused to yield and began barking orders at them.

"Chris, Wyatt—I'm sure you both know how dangerous time travel can be to the future, so I don't want to see you guys back here again unless it's an emergency. Got it? Now take your grandfather home."

Chris lowered his eyes at the crisp dismissal and nodded his head. When Wyatt started to protest, Chris waved his arm and the blonde disappeared mid-sentence. He immediately turned to his grandfather and did the same with him before turning back to his mother. He looked surprised when she gazed on him with suspicion in her deep brown eyes.

"What did you do with them?"

Though he had practiced for years, Chris couldn't keep the stricken tone from marring his voice. "I just did what you asked. I sent them back home. We only needed a spell to get here, not to get back."

Piper sighed guiltily. She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings by implying that he had done something to them. It had just come out wrong. She reached up to touch his face but he took a step back, just out of her reach. She still tried to apologize, but didn't get any further than "Chris, I'm-" before he waved his hand and disappeared from her view.

"—sorry," she finished to the vacant space that had been previously occupied by her youngest son.

Leo shook his head disapprovingly. "Piper, why did you say that to him? You know he wouldn't have hurt them."

Piper nodded furiously, "I know, Leo. I'm sorry, ok? It just didn't come out right."

Leo glanced at the others before turning his attention back to his wife and spoke somewhat hesitantly. "I don't know, Piper. Maybe we should find another way."

"Well, do any of you have any suggestions?" She pursed her lips and met each of their eyes pointedly. She knew she had won when no one answered. "Let's just try it for a few years and see how it goes. The first years of a child's life are the most impressionable ones—the best time to mold them. If we can't change his behavior by then, or if we find that he's too sensitive to handle it--we'll just figure something else out. Simple as that…"

"Simple?" Paige scoffed. "By then, it will have been too late to do anything about it. If your dad is right, we'll have ruined the poor kid."

"Not with the way our family likes to time travel. We can always just go back and fix it. But I am firmly convinced that it won't be necessary, and that this is the right thing to do."

After several long moments of silence, the others finally nodded in concession at her expectant look.

TBC…


	7. Chapter 7

Unplanned Changes

Chapter 7 of 8

By: teal-lover

Summary: Chris changed more than he ever expected with his trip to the past, which in turn lead to more changes to his future. Series finale fix.

AN: Ok, so I could have been mistaken about this being the last chapter ;)

I'm still typing up the last chapter—it's a whole lot longer than I thought.

Rating: T, PG-13 for some language.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or any of the characters or get any money from writing this fiction.

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When Chris arrived in the year 2009 shortly after his brother and grandfather, they were pacing the floor worriedly.

Wyatt practically tackled him when he appeared, but backed up a little at seeing the dejected slump of his shoulders. "Chris, what happened? What did they say to you?"

"It doesn't matter," he said tonelessly while staring out of the window.

Victor walked over and threw his arm around the young man's shoulders, "Of course it matters, Chris. To us, it does."

"Well it doesn't to me. Not anymore. I don't even know why I bothered. You were right Grandpa, as usual. I think I would have preferred not knowing the reason."

"But it's a good thing. At least now we know that they only did it to keep you alive," his brother pointed out.

Chris sucked his teeth, "Yeah, but it also tells me that they're completely willing to take the easy way out. Ever since you were a baby, if anything ever threatened you, they would move heaven and earth to stop it. And make sure that you were affected as little as possible in the process. So I guess we're back where we started. I know they love me. They just don't' like me." Chris's voice dipped down, but it wasn't bitter so much as it was resigned.

He motioned for his brother, "Come on Wy. We should be getting home."

Victor blocked his path and offered again, "My offer still stands. You can come and live with me."

The brunette sighed before giving a sad smile. "Thanks Grandpa. I appreciate it. But I think we all know that it would be a waste of effort trying to get mom to give up something of hers. You know one of your favorite phrases when dealing wither her in the future is that _'it's like talking to a brick wall.'_ I know you want to help, but it's ok. Really."

The empath touched his arm gently while offering him a warm smile. "It's really going to be ok. I'm alive, healthy. And maybe things weren't like they were last time, but—" he trailed off and stared at his brother thoughtfully—"but some things definitely are better. At least the most important ones."

Victor shook his head in disbelief. "Chris, son. Are you sure you want to just leave things like this? Do you really want to have the memories of growing up in a family where they act like nothing you ever do is good enough for them? Where every time you make a move, you're put under a microscope because they think you'll be like you were when they first met you? For goodness sakes Chris! You're an empath! For decades, you're going to feel every bit of anger, loathing, disgust, and disappointment that they're ever directed toward you. You'll grow up miserable all over again. Is that really what you want?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Chris replied evenly. "No, but it's in the past. It's just a memory for me, Grandpa. I'll move on with my life."

Wyatt raised an eyebrow at the older man as he nodded slightly. "So what, man? You're going to sit here and tell me that it was all nothing? That it didn't hurt like hell every time they treat you like that? 'Cause I think we both know that would be a lie."

Sea green eyes glistened brightly as they stared out of the window again, purposely avoiding those of his brother. Minutes ticked by and Chris finally found his voice, croaking out softly. "I didn't say that. I just said that I'm going to move on with my life. There are limits to how much of the past we can and should change. And apparently, that was never meant to be one of them."

"But Chris—"

The brunette spun around, cutting him off sharply. "Can we just go home now, Wy? I've got some packing to do." He told him, fully intending to stick with his original plan of moving away from his family and orbing back only when necessary.

He turned around to the sound of sniffling behind him. De-cloaking from an obvious spell, he was surprised to find the Charmed Ones and his father gazing at him with four sets of sorrowful eyes. Only his mother moved forward, her arms opening and dropping to her sides repeatedly as if she were afraid of his reaction.

The closer she got to him, the more Chris was able to pick up on the subtle differences of her features from the Piper he had just visited in 2004. The streaks of gray lining her temples; gentle creases around her eyes; more pronounced laugh lines—all told him that she didn't belong in 2009 any more than he did. This was the woman who raised him, his mother of 25 years. His eyes darted to the others proving that they didn't belong in this time either. He spun around wildly again and caught the attention of his brother and grandfather.

Victor nodded in answer to his youngest grandson's accusing stare. He didn't need to be a mind reader to understand the unspoken words of _'what have you done?'_ He straightened his shoulders back and conceded an explanation, though he didn't look in the least bit sorrowful. "I'm sorry, Chris. It was my idea to bring them here. If they're going to go through with this, then they need to know how it's going to affect you. When you sent us back, you didn't leave us any other choice."

"You promised you wouldn't say anything! Now you've gone and told them everything!" The younger witch ranted angrily.

Victor rocked back on his heals and stammered, "Uhmm…Technically. I didn't _tell _them anything, Chris."

Huffing angrily, the younger witch threw his hands up in exasperation and turned away, but Piper grabbed his arm before he could take even a single step.

"I'm glad you did," she told him.

Chris avoided her eyes, too embarrassed by his admission to face her.

"I didn't think, Chris. I'm sorry."

Emboldened by her apology, he retorted back, "You didn't care."

"But I did! _I do. _I never thought that what we were doing was hurting you. I—"

"Look, can we just go home? We'll talk about this later."

Piper shook her head and planted her feet firmly, "No, not yet. Here is where—_or when_ _rather_—we need to be to fix my mistake. I see that now."

Looking a bit surprised, Chris quickly brushed it off as indifference. "That's not what I want."

"What? Why not?"

"Because I don't want you to like me out of some misguided sense of loyalty or obligation. I came to the past out of my own free will and desire to save my family. You don't owe me any return favors. And that's why I never told you that I remembered in the first place."

Leo watched the interaction and blinked back the tears as he stared at his youngest son. It was as if he hadn't seen him in years, rather than hours. He didn't even realize that he was moving until he suddenly found his arms wrapping around him tightly.

When Chris felt like his ribs were going to beak, he tried to push away from his father. "Dad, you saw me this morning."

Leo ignored his son's protests and clung tighter. "I thought I had lost you."

"Dad—"

"You died in my arms," the former elder whispered brokenly.

He managed to pry his father's arms from him this time, and he moved quickly, far out of his reach. "I know Dad, I was there. But I'm here now, and I've been here all along. Nothing has changed."

Piper spoke up, "But it should."

Chris flashed her a cynical smile, "Why? Because I came back to the past?"

"No. Because I made a mistake."

"Look, mom. I know you mean well, but it doesn't matter. Even if—forget it…" he trailed off shaking his head, unwilling to say any more as he began to withdraw again.

Piper knew he was trying so hard to spare her feelings and she suddenly realized that he always had, even from the very first moment that she pretended to be their whitelighter. But now there was one major difference. While that may have been a small part of his motivation, the defeated slump of his shoulders told her that he saw no point in arguing. That he was never going to make her happy. He's probably spent the past 23 years thinking that he needed to make up for 15 months of mistakes. And that couldn't be further from the truth. She was proud of everything he had done, but there was no way for him to know that, was there? She thought angrily. And wasn't that just like someone had doused her with a bucket of ice water? That Chris knew what he was supposed to be like, and he still threw it all way for her.

She knew the answer to her next question, but she still had to hear it for herself. "Why Chris?"

He cocked his head to the side in genuine confusion. "Why what?"

"Why, if you remembered, did you try to change for us—for me?"

His eyes drifted downward as he admitted openly, "I just wanted to make you happy. I know you couldn't stand what I did. Who I was."

Though she expected it, Piper's mouth dropped open in shock. She shook her head adamantly as he started to walk away, her husband and sisters moving to surround him and block his path. Their heads bobbed and swayed vehemently in tune with hers. "No, no _no. _That's not true!"

Chris looked up briefly, his eyes momentarily flashing with hope before reality settled on his shoulders again. He recalled how often he felt the negative emotions rolling off of his family whenever they looked at him. He remembered how often growing up, that he had wished for an empath blocking potion like he had given them when he was their whitelighter. However, the ingredients were far too rare and he had simply learned to live with the feelings.

But her words of denial now made little difference when he knew the truth. He knew what he had felt from them all of these years. He wanted nothing more than to please her his entire life. Now, while his mother fiddled with her hands, anxiously awaiting his response of understanding, he couldn't find it in himself to give her what she wanted. It was time to accept things as they were and move on.

He spoke to her as gently as possible, "You can't hide your feelings. I'm an empath remember? But it's ok, Mom. Really. I'm just ready to go home now."

"If you've felt anything negative, it was never directed toward you. Chris please, it could _never _be toward you. I swear…" Piper broke off pleading.

Phoebe finally found her voice and stepped forward. "She's right, Chris. I know it was never toward you. Being an empath too, I've felt the same things. But coming from the opposite side of the coin, I also have the benefit of knowing why. All of the negative emotions, the contempt—it wasn't for you. It was at ourselves. We were angry with ourselves. That we couldn't allow you to be yourself. I know you never sensed any feelings of joy or pleasure when we did that—because there _never was any_. Was there?"

He furrowed his brow and thought back, reluctantly proving her right with a softly muttered, "No."

Phoebe bounced anxiously with the temporary win. "You believe me then, right? Believe us?"

Chris watched the desperation in his aunt's face before he turned to the others. The myriad of emotions flitting from his parents to his aunts was nearly overwhelming and he staggered back a few steps. He smiled gratefully when his brother and grandfather stepped between them and glared back harshly, daring them to cross their invisible line of support they had just erected.

_Did he believe them? _He asked himself. _Yes, _he thought firmly. _Did it matter? No…_There was such a thing as 'too little too late', and the fact of the matter was that they _choose _to hurt him rather than finding another way. They took the easy way out.

_You may have loved me enough to want to save me, but not enough to want to fight for me. _Chris hadn't realized he had spoken out loud until his mother gasped. Instinctively, he began apologizing before he cut himself off. "I'm sorry, I—can we just go home now? I have some packing to do."

Chris turned and headed for the triquetra on the wall that he had just activated with a wave of his hand. When he realized that he was alone, he turned to his brother, knowing that only he could make them follow.

He understood Wyatt's reluctance. His older brother merely wanted to make things right for him. The blonde probably thought that by allowing them access to the past, they could fix what was wrong. Chris may have wanted a change at one point, but not like this. It felt as if he would be forcing them to change out of a guilty conscience. He'd much rather move on from this point forward, and he needed his brother to help him do that. "Wyatt?"

"No Chris…"

"You promised. _You're the only one…_" Chris declared hopefully. And Wyatt reflected bitterly on the stupid promise he made to his brother just before leaving for the past. If Chris gave the word, he would ensure that they made it back to the future with no further future interference. He agreed at the time because he hadn't actually anticipated his brother giving that instruction.

He was about ready to refuse when Chris added a phrase that only he would understand. "_You're the only one…" _How often had his little brother confided in him that he was the only Halliwell who was ever proud of him? The only one who ever made him feel like he was special? _The only one who had never let him down!_ Even if it hurt to give up now, how could he ever shatter that one idea that his little brother had at least one person in his life that would always keep his promises—who would never let him down?

And with a resigned slump of his shoulders, Wyatt knew that he couldn't. He raised his shield to surround everyone that didn't belong in 2009 and began trailing after the younger Halliwell. As he moved, his family was dragged backward with the shield toward the portal. He ignored his mother and father pleading with him to give them a chance to fix things.

Victor shook his head as he watched his family being herded back through the portal, thinking of his youngest grandchild. '_That boy is just as stubborn and pig-headed as his mother.'_

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_Thirteen months after arriving in the future… _

Wyatt wandered up to the attic, tuning out the cacophony of hushed voices below him. He had never before felt as uncomfortable in his childhood home as he did now. The manor felt wrong somehow—imposing, _stuffy_. He loosened the knot on his tie but it didn't seem to help any. The air around him remained stifling and he yanked off the offending article, balling it in his fist by the time he reached the entrance.

Leo was leaning on the podium inside; the Book of Shadows nestled between his arms. He stared down relentlessly, almost willing it to give him the answers he sought.

Wyatt shook his head sadly, '_As if we haven't already been through that thing backwards and forwards…' _His father gave no indication that he had heard him enter, so he cleared his throat gently. "Dad? I just wanted to let you know that I'm heading home now. Do you know where mom is?"

The former elder looked up at his son, and Wyatt couldn't help but notice how the years hadn't been kind to his father. The crystal blue eyes that had once been alight with laughter, compassion and warmth, were now dull and empty orbs. The silver mane that used to make him look distinguished, now only succeeding in making him look haggard. It seemed that the man had aged decade's overnight.

As Wyatt moved closer, Leo began to pace fearing that his eldest was still bound by a year-old promise. The blonde tilted his head suspiciously and began to fit together the pieces of the missing puzzle—or rather—the missing mother. "She went back, didn't she?" he asked already knowing the answer.

Leo's eyes darted around frantically until they found his son, pleading with him silently, '_Please don't try to stop her.'_

Wyatt snorted, his features set in a deep frown as he eyed the wadded up tie in his hand. He tossed the crumpled silk into the corner as he spun on his heels and stalked away. When he reached the doorway, he threw a backwards glance at his father, muttering darkly, _"Good…"_

TBC…

It shouldn't be long for the conclusion now. Cross your fingers—I know I am:)


	8. Chapter 8

Unplanned Changes

Chapter 8 of ?

By: teal-lover

Summary: Chris changed more than he ever expected with his trip to the past, which in turn lead to more changes to his future. Series finale fix.

AN: All right, so who wasn't crossing their fingers? kidding. Sorry for the long wait, but life just kinda got in the way.

I know I said this was going to be the end, but a funny thing happens when you start typing up hand-written chapters. You start typing away-and it keeps getting longer—and longer-----and longer-----until boom, there's another chapter after all:) So let's see if we can get this done by chapter 9—10 at the latest—no really, I'm serious this time!

Rating: T, PG-13 for some language.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or any of the characters or get any money from writing this fiction.

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_2004_

_Leo glanced at the others before turning his attention back to his wife and spoke somewhat hesitantly. "I don't know, Piper. Maybe we should find another way."_

_"Well, do any of you have any suggestions?" She pursed her lips and met each of their eyes pointedly. She knew she had won when no one answered. "Let's just try it for a few years and see how it goes. The first years of a child's life are the most impressionable ones—the best time to mold them. If we can't change his behavior by then, or if we find that he's too sensitive to handle it--we'll just figure something else out. Simple as that…"_

_"Simple?" Paige scoffed. "By then, it will have been too late to do anything about it. If your dad is right, we'll have ruined the poor kid."_

_"Not with the way our family likes to time travel. We can always just go back and fix it. But I am firmly convinced that it won't be necessary, and that this is the right thing to do."_

Piper fully expected to hear their agreement to her idea. What she hadn't expected was to hear her own voice drifting down from the top of the stairs.

"Well then_, you'd be wrong!"_

The Piper of 2004 threw her hands up in exasperation as she watched a slightly gray-haired version of herself racing down the stairs. She shook her head when the older woman nearly tripped over her long black dress. "What is this, a future people convention?"

The older version reached the bottom of the landing, pointing her finger wildly at her younger counterpart. _"Don't you dare make jokes!" _she screamed at her hysterically.

Piper held up her hands in a stop gesture as she addressed her older self. "Whoa, take it easy lady." She leaned in to her sisters, "I'm not that high strung, am I?"

Seconds later, she felt a stinging pain spreading across her cheek. Her haw dropped open in shock and she glared at the older woman with her hand still raised and poised to do it again. "Did you just _slap _me?"

Leo reached out and grabbed her wrist as she spat back at the younger woman, "Trust me, it was well deserved."

He tried to calm this older, and apparently feistier version of his spouse as he pulled her far enough out of reach of his current wife. He glanced at her and what he saw made his heart flutter with fear.

Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but a few strands fell loose and framed her face, drawing attention to her eyes. There was a wild, panicked look to them. The mascara trailed down her cheeks and it was clear that she had been crying.

He pulled her back and took in her appearance fully, a shiver running down is spine as he finally noticed what she was wearing—all black. His wife never wore that solitary color, at least not unless she had just come from a funeral.

After a lifetime with her husband, a gray-haired Piper knew the moment he understood why she was there when he gasped audibly, mouthing the name of their youngest son. She lowered her gaze and nodded solemnly, much too afraid that if she were to look into his tear filled eyes, she would loose what little bit of composure she had left.

She couldn't help the flood of anger that rushed her when her younger counterpart asked what had happened. She could never forgive herself, and right now, this younger woman represented everything she had once been and done. It had led her to forego the 'no time-traveling' rule that her youngest son had made her swear to over a year ago. She had made him a promise then, hoping that they could somehow mend their relationship. But even that failed.

Nothing and no one could undo the damage except the woman in front of her. It took everything in her power not to physically lash out at the younger woman again, but that didn't stop her from lashing out verbally as she hissed venomously, "_What happened _is that I just buried my son, right along side of my big sister. And it's all because of this _stupid plan of yours_!"

Leo swayed slightly on his feet. Hearing it spoken aloud was so much worse than what he had guessed. "But he just left."

The older Piper maneuvered herself out of his arms and paced the floor, biting her nails anxiously. She didn't even look up as she spoke. "That was a year ago for us."

She smoothed down the long black skirt absently, her head darting up only after she heard the soft crying on the baby monitor. She raced past her younger self up to the baby's room, the rest of her family hot on her heels.

Her dark eyes flooded with tears the moment he saw the older woman and he reached his chubby little arms out to her. She bent down and lifted him to her hip, bouncing and soothing the little boy gently as she made her way over to the rocking chair.

"I'll take him," the younger version offered and stretched her arms out, but her sister pulled her back.

Phoebe glowered at the eldest Charmed One as she watched the older version holding the child tightly. "Leave her be, Piper. She just lost her son.

Piper backed away and lowered her eyes guiltily, trying her best to ignore the accusing glares of her husband and sisters. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" she told her older self before she turned and ran out of the room.

The older woman glanced at the retreating form coldly. She couldn't seem to help the vindictive attitude that surfaced at seeing a physical representation of all of her past mistakes. She wanted the younger woman to hurt as much as she did now.

Leo broke her train of thought when he asked her brokenly. "Piper? What happened?"

She shook her head in refusal, "She needs to hear this."

Emerald green eyes stared at her with wonder, and he reached a tiny hand up and touched her cheeks faintly. Sobs racked her body again as she recalled the last time she had touched him nine days ago. His body was too cold and stiff when she tried to pull him into her arms, desperately trying to force breath past his lips where there was none.

She reveled in the burst of calm that the child had projected toward her and she reluctantly found the strength to pull herself together again. Moments later, she stood with the child tucked safely in her arms and she led them downstairs to the dining room.

By the time everyone came to join her at the dinning room table, the older Piper was sitting down rocking the child to sleep. His mother from this time sat down at the opposite end, feeling like an intruder in her own son's life.

The room was shrouded in silence for several minutes while waiting for the older woman to tell her story.

Leo was the first to speak, unable to tolerate the quiet any longer. "Piper please? What happened?"

She didn't look up as she spoke, choosing instead to focus on the light brown tufts of baby fine hair of the toddler in her lap. "When he left here, the four of us were waiting for him at dad's place in 2009. That's when we found out how much we screwed up—how that dumb idea of mine did nothing but push him away. We should have found another way instead of taking the easy way out. He even told us as much. And he was right. I didn't realize it until he said, and I quote, that _I loved him enough to want to save him, but not enough to want to fight for him. _So we went home, back to our time. But then he just _gave up_."

Leo blanched at her words. It was simply unfathomable that their son would take his own life, but she had certainly just implied it. "What do you mean _he gave up? Chris wouldn't hurt himself like that! He had the strength and courage to come back here and save his family and the rest of the world too. There's no way he'd ever just give up!" _he yelled frantically.

She brushed the loose strands of gray away from her face in exasperation. "I didn't mean that he killed himself, Leo! Chris was still _Chris_. _In more ways than you could ever imagine…" _she added cryptically. "But we did change his personality while we were screwing him up. That's not the point though. What I meant is that he gave up on _us._ And we had no one to blame for it but ourselves when he ran off to New York by himself. He didn't want anything to do with us. Sure, he came back for extreme vanquishes or emergencies, but other that that, he stayed away. Blocked us from sensing or locating him. Wyatt was the only one he trusted enough to know where he was staying, and he wouldn't break his confidence." Her voice held a hint of resentment when she finished.

_"Oh, so now it's my fault?"_

She whipped her head around to find her only remaining son standing in the doorway, arms crossed and glaring at her menacingly. Everyone had been so enthralled by her story that no one had heard him arrive.

She blinked in surprise. "Wyatt. What are you doing here?"

He narrowed his eyes pointedly as he answered. "I'm just making sure…"

His mother looked down in embarrassment as she finished the rest of the unspoken sentence. "That I don't screw it up?"

Wyatt threw here a smirk that didn't even come close to meeting his eyes. "You said it, not me. And you didn't answer my question."

"No, of course I'm not blaming you, Wy. It's our own fault. Mainly mine."

He leaned over, gesturing with his arms wildly. "I'd say it was _all yours_, Mom. You're the reason I just carried my little brother's casket to his grave!"

Wyatt's outburst caused the child in her arms to burst into tears at all of the negative emotions he was sensing, especially from the tall blonde that had just entered. He squirmed in her arms in an attempt to reach for the man. His future mother was reluctant to let him go, so he took it upon himself to orb into his brother's outstretched arms.

Leo stammered out proudly, "I didn't know he could orb yet. He's barely a year old."

His wife answered, equally startled. "That's because it's his first time."

Wyatt's anger diminished the instant the toddler snuggled up to him, tangling his tiny fists in his shirt. He cooed to the child softly, "You did that for me little guy? You orbed for your big bro to make him feel better?"

Wyatt couldn't help the wide grin that spread across his face as the child stared back him, bubbling with glee as he clapped his hands and gave him a toothy grin.

Phoebe noted the immediate change in her grown nephew and she turned to his mother that watched them with a wistful expression tinged with regret. She remembered how the woman had calmed almost immediately after picking him up in the nursery earlier. The reaction was frustratingly similar to something that she just couldn't grasp at the moment, and she stared hard at her little nephew.

He flashed mischievous green eyes at her and she sat back, practically bouncing out of her seat excitedly. "Oh my goodness—are you kidding me? He's an empath! How did we not know that?"

Wyatt glanced at his aunt, his expression suddenly grim and serious. "Yes, he is. Don't you see? That's why mom's plan didn't work."

Wyatt's gaze fell on the other adults in the room and he huffed in irritation at the blank stares he received in return. He waited for his mother to explain and she nodded.

"Well, think about it. How horrible do you think you would feel to intentionally hurt your son—your nephew. And then think about how he doesn't have a clue why you're doing it—just that you are. He can feel all of those negative emotions that you're feeling about yourself. For most of his life, he thought that we hated who he was—or rather who he used to be. For everything that he did when he was our whitelighter."

Leo gasped, his chest suddenly thudding painfully. "Wait a minute—are you saying that he knows about all of that?"

Wyatt shook his head, "Not at this age. But he will remember eventually. So Chris, he remembered who he used to be. But the brother I grew up with was nothing like how grandpa described him. My Chris was always soft-spoken, quiet, shy, melancholy. He once told me that he felt like nothing he did would ever please you guys. It only made it harder on him when we came here and grandpa tried to talk you out of it. That's when he knew that you guys just took the easy way out. He got tired of trying after that. So when we got home, he left."

Wyatt's eyes misted over, and he held his brother tighter in his arms. When the little boy protested the tight grip by fussing, his older brother handed him over to the young mother who accepted him gratefully. The blonde swallowed against the lump in his throat before he was able to continue, but his voice still cracked painfully. "When the darklighter found him, he was alone. We didn't even know he was in trouble."

Leo squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to block out the picture that his oldest son painted for them. He and Paige, unlike the others, could imagine it clearly. It wasn't that long ago that he had held his son as he lay dying in his arms. Now that Chris was gone even from the future, there was no hope of him being born again to give them all a second chance. _It was so unfair! _He slammed his fists on the table and jumped out of his seat, pacing frantically.

"_Damn it! _They were tracking him, weren't they? He'll never be safe. We're going to screw it all up and lose him time and time again, won't we?"

Wyatt shook his head at his father's question, not surprised at the former Elder's outburst. He had seen a myriad of emotions from his father in the few short weeks since his brother's death. Grief, denial, anger, frustration, despondency, utter despair. In fact, when he left, the man had been on the verge of a full out mental breakdown. One glimpse at his mother told that she hadn't been fairing much better. No one in the family had, including himself.

He waited patiently for his father to stop pacing before he spoke slowly. "No, Dad. They weren't tracking him. No one could. His blocks were so damn good—no witch, demon, elder, or any other magical creature for that matter, could sense him unless you were standing right next to him. Even then, you didn't have a clue who he was or how much power he had. He glamoured his appearance just enough so that I barely recognized him when I went to visit once."

The younger Piper spoke for the first time in hours as she silently processed her future errors. "How do you know they weren't after him? Saw him leaving the manor as an opportunity to be rid of one of us."

Wyatt's voice dipped down, and everyone felt a sudden chill in the room as he answered. The hard, dangerous glint in his eyes was only reinforced by the power that radiated off of the Twice-Blessed Witch. It was enough to make them all see why Chris came to the past in the first place. He was downright frightening, and he wasn't even evil this time around. "Trust me. I hunted that little bastard down like a dog. He was just some low level darklighter that happened to bump into him and got lucky. He followed him home that same night. He didn't even know who he had murdered until I fried him."

The chinaware in the cabinets behind Wyatt began to shake as he clenched his fists in fury, staring absently at the image of the darklighter that now lived only in his memory.

He had never before felt good about vanquishing demons. It was simply a necessary part of their lives. But this time was different. He had taken an immense pleasure in torturing the darklighter in the hour before his death. But somewhere in that time, Wyatt had remembered the sacrifice that his brother had made for him, and he couldn't dishonor that memory by going down the same path that he had apparently once chosen in another life. It was only when he felt himself teetering dangerously close to the edge of evil, did he back off and grant the demon's pleas for a quick death.

Wyatt breathed in deeply and felt a familiar calm wash over him. It was a presence in his mind that he had missed so much in the short time since he had lost his brother. He looked up, momentarily startled in the hopes that somehow his brother was alive and well. Then he felt the invading nudge in his mind again; only it wasn't quite a nudge he suddenly realized. It was more like someone trying to use a bulldozer to plant a flower-bed. The presence was still calming, but raw and untamed. His gaze lingered on the wide-eyed toddler sucking on his thumb and staring at him intently. He smiled at the little boy, saying a silent thank you that he wished the child could understand. If Chris had been telepathic in addition to empathic, then maybe he could have saved him. _Well don't worry buddy. I promise I'll get it right this time…_

TBC…


	9. Chapter 9

Unplanned Changes

Chapter 9 of ?

By: teal-lover

Summary: Chris changed more than he ever expected with his trip to the past, which in turn lead to more changes to his future. Series finale fix.

AN: Thanks for being patient. Next chapter, I hope to have posted by next weekend.

Rating: T, PG-13 for some language.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or any of the characters or get any money from writing this fiction.

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_2004_

"But he would have called for help, right?" Piper asked her future self frantically. "Why couldn't he be healed?"

"It looked like—like the arrow was too close to his heart. Chris probably didn't have time. I don't know how that cowardly bastard managed to sneak up on him, but he did. His blocks were still up. We didn't have a clue that something was wrong. I didn't find him until a few days later."

Everyone blanched at the thought of Chris out there in a strange city, fatally injured for who knew how long, before finally succumbing to the poison in his blood. To die all alone, only to be found days later? It was simply inconceivable.

Piper was visibly shaking by the time that her older counterpart finished. She threw her head in her hands and began rocking back and forth as she fought back the panic making her dizzy and lightheaded.

The older woman moved to her side and shook her roughly before grabbing her chin and forcing her head up. "Don't even think about passing out on me. You're damn well going to _sit there _and _listen _until you get it through your thick skull. You think it's bad _hearing it_? Well get this—I spent weeks working with a private detective to find my own son, and when I finally did, it was too late. _Two days too late_!"

She released her and stepped back suddenly, her watery gaze locking on her younger self. She wrapped her arms around her body as if the action would somehow erase the chill she felt as she spoke softly. "Do you have any idea what it's like to try and hold your little boy, but you can't—because his body has gotten too cold?"

Wyatt's mouth dropped open in shock as he watched his mother try and torment her younger self. And he was positive that he didn't want to relive the details either. After all, he was the first one she called in desperate hopes that her youngest child could be healed. "_Mom…" _he cautioned, but she ignored him.

"Stiff and lifeless? Ice cold and the sickest blue-gray color you could ever imagine? Do you have any idea what that's like?"

Wyatt was ready to throw his hands up against his ears like he did as a child to block out someone speaking. Instead, he growled out, "_Mom, stop it_!"

"NO!" she stomped her foot petulantly. "I want her to hear it. I want her to know it. _To feel it._ Because I don't want her to live it."

Wyatt glanced around the table at his past family before his eyes finally settled on the younger version of his mother who was still shaking with grief.

She squared her shoulders back and told him, "I'm not going to go through that."

"Then what are you going to do about it?" he asked her pointedly, hoping that the woman he had grown up with was finished with her own brand of shock therapy.

The younger Piper wiped her eyes, her chin jutting out defiantly as she answered him sharply. "I'm going to find another way to keep my son safe. I don't care if I have to stick to him like glue and blow up anyone that so much as looks at him cross-eyed for the next 40 years. My son is not going to die!"

The tall blonde nodded then grinned mischievously. "Fair enough. Though he may have a problem with that plan when he starts to date. Or goes on his honeymoon."

The others in the room were obviously still shocked, but they all offered the tiniest of smiles at Wyatt's attempt at humor to lighten the mood a bit. He knew it was all the concession he would get after hearing such chilling and devastating news.

His eyes trailed to the woman who had raised him. The graying woman's watery eyes floated to the child who was happily chewing on his daddy's shirt. With her deep brown eyes so full of guilt and pain, he could almost forget that she was her own worst enemy in this case. He could almost forget that she was still a mother who had just lost a child. His expression softened and he stamped down some of the anger that he had been harboring since his brother had run off to NY over a year ago. It had only gotten progressively worse when they learned of his death not even two weeks prior.

Nine days to be exact, and it had felt like a lifetime.

With a quiet resignation, Wyatt stood and walked over to his mother, placing his hand on her shoulder. Her head shot up warily, her expression clearly doubtful and mistrusting that he would offer her any bit of comfort. When he tugged at her gently and pulled the tiny woman into his arms, she accepted it gratefully and buried her face in his chest to contain the sobs that wracked her body.

"We're not going to loose him this time, Mom." He offered in a gentle voice. He turned his head to the young mother that was currently only a few years older than him. "Do I have your promise that you'll find another way?"

She nodded vehemently before turning away from the scene that was rendering her speechless. The very thought that this woman's heartbreak could someday be her own--scared her more than anything she had ever encountered in her life. She tried to ignore the way the older woman moved on shaky legs while her son guided her back toward the portal in the attic. Piper knew that the older woman was deathly afraid of what she would find when she got there.

Wyatt created the portal for his mother, then nudged her toward it with a light push.

She looked up with panic in her eyes as he stood back. "You're not coming?"

"No, I'm going to hang around for a little bit. I've got something to take care of."

Wyatt stayed long enough for the portal to close behind her before he orbed away, ignoring the questioning looks of his past family members.

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Arriving at the top of the Golden Gate Bridge, Wyatt had a faint notion of how to summon Fate. He had only seen the woman once in his life, nearly a quarter of a century ago—and even then, he had been a child. But he knew that being a Twice Blessed Witch had its advantages as he summoned all of the power of the Halliwell line within him. He focused on her face, silently calling for her in his mind as he closed his eyes.

A few minutes later, he heard the twinkling form coalescing in front of him. The honey-skinned woman stared at him questioningly, folding her hands in front of her as she patiently awaited his speech.

After a long moment of staring at each other, Wyatt decided that he would have to initiate the conversation and spare them the introductions. "Do you know who I am?"

"Yes. Though I don't know why you are. You do not belong in this time."

"I'm here because you hold my brother's fate in your hands."

She nodded in understanding. "I see. You wish to change his destiny."

"Chris is not destined to die!" he shot back confidently. When she gave no indication or affirmation of denial, his heart dropped a little in his chest. He asked hesitantly, "Is he?"

"That will depend on the path your family chooses."

"So you're saying as long as they don't go through with that stupid idea to change him, he'll be ok? He won't die young?"

The woman nodded slowly. "If you could ensure their cooperation."

Wyatt breathed a sigh of relief. "That's easy. I'll just stay here and make sure they get it right this time."

Her eyes widened in alarm and she began gesturing emphatically. "You must not! You have a destiny that has not yet been fulfilled. The time you left from is currently without a Wyatt Halliwell. If you were to remain and exist here, you would destroy that destiny by removing yourself from the equation."

He shook his head and began pacing frantically. "I don't give a rats ass about some stupid destiny. I _care _about saving my brother's life! I need to make sure that happens."

She ignored his outburst, speaking calmly as if talking to a small child. "You Halliwell's are fond of colorful language aren't you? Wyatt, you were born with a great amount of power because of your selfless character, so I know that's not entirely true. Because of it, you have a responsibility to the world and to the magical community."

Wyatt huffed angrily before rolling his eyes. "I don't think you're hearing me, lady. My _responsibility _is to my little brother! So if you really want me to continue with my _so-called destiny_, then you'll help me get him back. How can I make sure that they'll do right by him this time if I don't stay?"

They stood in silence for a few moments, their eyes locked in a heated debate that neither was willing to back down from. While she pondered his question—_or rather demand_, she knew without a doubt that he wouldn't budge and simply return to his time. There was really only one option left to offer him. She sighed reluctantly before advising him, "You live on in memory."

Wyatt wrinkled his face in confusion at her cryptic response. "Wait, my younger self? But he's only 2 right now. How can he ever come close to understanding what has to be done?"

"Yes, he is too young right now. But in time, the memory will come to him and he will understand—just as your brother did."

Wyatt was even further confused now. His eyes widened as he remembered his brother telling him how he got his memories of coming to the past to change his future. "Wait, are you telling me that I have to die here in the past for my toddler self to remember all of this?" he asked her incredulously.

When she simply nodded, he took a cautious step backward. "But you just got finished telling me that I can't stay here and that I'd be ruining my destiny because I wasn't there in the future. If I die and don't go back, that's still the same problem."

She pursed her lips in a tight smile, answering with a good deal less patience than when she first arrived. Apparently, she took offense to the implication that she was being anything less than honest and neutral. "No. You can not co exist along side of yourself as a child. If you stay here, and the younger Wyatt reaches the age that you are now, he will cease to exist at that point in time because you exist here in this time. I'm quite sure as a Halliwell that you've been warned of time paradoxes before."

Wyatt smirked at the woman's bristled response and her last dig. It was a good feeling to know that a Halliwell could rile up just about anyone or anything. That was truly something to be proud of. "So when Chris was five, you gave him his memories from when he died here in the past?"

Fate huffed in irritation before answering defensively. "I know that he believes that we fates gave them to him as a joke, but it had nothing to do with us. The soul carries memories. It is simply the way of the universe. When he died, his soul already existed in the infant Christopher, but the memories had no where else to go. They became apart of him then—they were always with your brother. Five was just the age that his own mind decided it was capable of handling them. It may be a different age for you, but it should be somewhere along those lines. _Then again, it is based on maturity so it may take you a bit longer._"

Wyatt ignored the small quirk of her lips before her features hardened and lost all traces of humor.

"Now that I have answered your questions, tell me this Wyatt Halliwell—are you willing to lay down your life for your brother?"

The tall blonde paused for a moment with apprehension. This was the first time in his entire life that he ever felt the vulnerability of his own mortality. With all of the power that he and his family held, Wyatt had simply taken the customary life-threatening situations with a grain of salt. Death wasn't just a possibility now. It was a certainty.

But in the time it took to let out a deep breath, he realized that it didn't matter as long as he could ensure his brother's safety. Only seconds had passed from the time she finished her question until he growled out a firm, "Yes."

A genuine smile creased the woman's face and her features softened. "I knew we had made the right decision when we chose you for your gifts."

Instead of taking it as a compliment, Wyatt rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Why? Because I'm willing to sacrifice myself for someone who would—and has done it before?" Her answering smirk told him that he was right, and that only served to annoy him further. He had never liked being singled out because of his Twice-Blessed status, especially over his brother. It seemed that she was doing just that.

Wyatt clenched his teeth angrily and told her in a clipped tone, "I think you chose wrong. You should have given them to Chris." _He's a much better person, _he added mentally.

"No, we chose correctly. Chris was given a much greater task."

"Which is?"

Fate raised one arched eyebrow and shot him a pointed look. "Keeping _you _in line."

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Wyatt ducked around another corner in the underworld, cursing himself for his reflexes. He wiped the sweat from his brow. _It was a whole lot harder to get yourself killed than he ever imagined_. He didn't think he had it in him to do it himself, so he went looking for trouble to take care of his little problem.

Fortunately, the blonde witch had found several demons willing to help.

Unfortunately, his natural survival instincts had kicked in and he raised his shield or flicked his wrists and defended himself out of habit.

_This is crazy! _He thought. _Why are you even doing this? _He berated himself again. _Because she's right. _He may not have been an empath like his brother and aunt, but he had always had good instincts when it came to seeking out the truth and knowing who he could trust or not. Wyatt had always guessed that it had something to do with his twice-blessed status—a built in lie detector. All of his instincts now were telling him that Fate spoke the truth. It made logical sense—_just not common sense, _he laughed to himself.

Wyatt closed his eyes tightly, hearing another group of demons approach. He could do it this time. Chris was depending on him. His heart began fluttering wildly and he stood on shaky legs, muttering '"Geronimo" before orbing out in front of them.

It was the last thing he ever did.

TBC…

AN: ;) wow, I think this is a new record for me. Killing off 2 halliwell brothers at the same time? I know, I know—conclusion up soon. But in the mean time—what did you think?


	10. Chapter 10

Unplanned Changes

Chapter 10

By: teal-lover

Summary: Chris changed more than he ever expected with his trip to the past, which in turn lead to more changes to his future. Series finale fix.

Warnings—a little bit of cursing here. But its for a good cause:)

AN: epilog to follow.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or any of the characters or get any money from writing this fiction.

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_2009_

Victor Bennett rocked the feverish child in his arms, smoothing back the dampened brown locks away from his forehead to keep him cool. Chris was mumbling incoherently and his grandfather was beginning to panic.

He picked up the cordless phone again to dial his oldest daughter. If they couldn't reach Paige, he was going to have to rush the little boy to the emergency room.

Piper would hit the roof when she learned of the child's symptoms. He wasn't sure what had happened to change her mind after he and his grandsons when back to 2004, but something had spooked her—_all of them _now that he thought of itInstead of pushing Chris away like they had before, his mother, father, and aunts now showered him with love and attention. Both brothers were treated equally like a prince—special in their own right, but equal just the same.

They only thing he may have had to worry about now was if the boys grew up to be spoiled. Thought he didn't think so with as down to earth and happy both children were. _Except now…_Victor frowned worriedly. His normally cheerful and exuberant little grandson was presently curled up against his side, whimpering softly as the tears streamed down his flushed cheeks.

Victor grabbed the wet rag again and pressed it to Chris' forehead, desperately hoping to quell the fever.

When that didn't seem to work , he cursed softly and scooped up the tiny body and raced toward the back bedroom where his other grandson slept soundly. He flipped on the light to rouse him. "Wyatt, wake up. We've got to go…"

The blonde child rubbed his eyes sleepily. "What's wrong, grandpa?"

"Chris is sick. I've been trying to reach your Aunt Paige, but she's not answering. We've got to get your brother to the emergency room."

Wyatt sat up, more alert now as he glanced from his brother to the phone dangling in the older man's hands. He scrunched up his face in a half-amused, half-annoyed expression that seemed out of place on the six-year-old. "You called her on her _phone_?":

He ignored his grandfather's flush of embarrassment as he called into the air, "Aunt Paige? Chris needs you!"

Less than a minute later, the youngest Charmed One orbed in, the boy's parents frantically in tow.

"What's wrong?" all three intoned while Leo gathered the sick child in his arms.

Wyatt answered after moving to touch his little brother. "Nothing, he's not sick. Not really."

Leo ignored the six-year-old's diagnosis and turned to his wife worriedly, "Piper, he's burning up! Paige, heal him, please!" the former elder told his sister-in-law needlessly since she had already moved to do so.

Fearing that she was still too new at the task, Paige bit her lip nervously when the familiar yellow glow didn't come. "He's not healing," she told the others.

Wyatt interrupted again in a sing-song voice, "That's because…because…he's not sick."

Piper scolder her oldest, "Hush, Wyatt. Let Paige concentrate on healing your brother."

He shrunk back into the corner at that. The reprimand lasted all of a minute before he tried again in exasperation. "You guys—it's not going to work because Chris is not sick!"

Wyatt stomped his foot in frustration as they ignored him again. Somehow, he needed to get their attention. When the idea came to him, he made sure to stand as far away from his mother as possible, muttering under his breath, _'well it wouldn't be the first time I've faced certain death.'_

The blonde-haired child took a deep breath just before he yelled at the top of his lungs, "SON OF A BITCH! Why won't any of you fucking listen to me!"

If it wasn't for the fact that every pair of eyes in the vicinity turned slowly to stare at him, he would have sworn that his mom had frozen the room. Even his brother's mouth formed a perfect little "_o_".

Wyatt took another step back, ensuring that he was well out of reaching range from his mother who had that _'you are not going to be able to sit for a week'_ look.

"Um, now that I have your attention, there's no use in keeping it a secret anymore. Chris is just getting his memories from before."

Victor was the only one to nod in acceptance, while everyone else looked on in surprise.

Leo was the first to speak on it. "Before what Wyatt?" His older boy couldn't have possibly known what had happened to his brother. They were so careful to ensure that Wyatt never knew he had been evil in a previous life. _Besides, _he thought absurdly, _the boy was only six! _But as he watched the little blonde haired child shift uncomfortably—the action of one so much older, he began to doubt that.

Ice blue eyes fixed Leo with a piercing stare. "Before. When he was mom's whitelighter. Before he di—uh, I mean, got hurt saving me."

Piper shook her head in denial, even though she knew it had to be true. "But he's sick, just like you were a few months ago—" she paused and glanced at the other adults in the room . _A few months ago_—when Wyatt had had similar symptoms, though no where near as bad. His fever had broken and he seemed fine. Except that the little boy was different afterward.

Sometimes, he would look at them with suspicion and worry when they got close to Chris. In those times, Wyatt would watch over his little brother like a hawk. But then at other times, he was his normal six-year-old, carefree and exuberant self.

The adults around him had found it endearing for such a small child to be so protective of his baby brother. But maybe—_maybe _he wasn't such a small child after all.

Piper put her hands on her hips and shot him a questioning look. "Wyatt? Something you want to tell me?"

He gave his best innocent, wide-eyed look. "No mommy."

"Uh huh. Then how do you know what's wrong with your brother?"

Wyatt toed his foot on the carpet and locked his hands behind his back. "Uh, lucky guess?"

Piper stalked over to her oldest son and leaned down, grabbing his chin to look him in the eye. "Wyatt Matthew Halliwell! Unless you want to be grounded until the _next time _you turn 18, then you had better start talking!"

Wyatt sighed dramatically as he realized that she was on to him. "Because that's what happened to me. He'll be ok once his mind adjusts. It's just a little much for a five year old to handle right now, so its making his body go kinda' crazy"

Piper glanced at her youngest son, currently nestled in his father's arms, with a bit of trepidation. '_If Wyatt's wrong and Chris is actually sick, then we're wasting precious time.' _she turned again to her oldest, the tears streaming down her face. "Please Wyatt, are you absolutely certain? Because I can't—" _I can't loose him again…_she thought.

He offered her a reassuring smile that didn't seem to fit the small features. "I know mommy. Don't worry. I'm sure."

The eldest Charmed One visibly relaxed at the small boy's words. She hugged him quickly before rushing over to her youngest, smoothing his hair back in a tender, comforting gesture.

All they could do now was wait.

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Hours turned to days, and to the family's relief, Christopher's symptoms gradually got better. Like his brother, he too seemed older at times, but sporadically and unpredictably.

12 months later, Piper found herself busily making a cake from scratch. She added each ingredient with more precision than she ever did making a potion. Everything had to be perfect for Chris' sixth birthday.

Leo joined her in the kitchen, breathing heavily with exhaustion after having just taken the boys to the playground.

She noted his flushed cheeks and grinned widely. "You look like they ran you ragged."

Leo frowned. "They did! Piper, I don't get it. I thought with all of their adult memories, they'd be more mature – not bouncing up and down on the jungle gym and making me run and spin them on the merry-go-round!"

She laughed at her husband's temporary frustration, because she knew that he secretly enjoyed it. The way his eyes always lit up when the children asked him to take them to the playground was the first clue. He loved spending time with the boys, anyway he could get it. "You know, Leo. They're still just little boys. Besides, I asked Wyatt how old he was after Chris was sick, and do you know what he told me?"

Leo shook his head in bewilderment before she continued. "He looked up at me with those big blue eyes and smiled proudly – both of his two front baby teeth missing—and he said _SIX. And a half. But come on mom, I'm not gonna waste an opportunity to do it all over again and have fun. Besides, I can make sure that Chris does too."_

Leo laughed until his wife trailed off, the smile suddenly vanishing from her features.

"And then I asked if that's why he stayed behind…"

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"When I—your mom, went back to the future, is that why you stayed behind?"

Wyatt's eyes flashed with a dark intensity as he stared up at his mother. "It's one reason," he told her in no uncertain terms. "You will NOT hurt him again."

"Wyatt I—"

"I know, mom. You're trying. And you're doing good so far. I'll let you know if you're not. I'm here to look out for him. The Chris that I grew up with died alone at the hands of a darklighter. And all because he felt that his family didn't care enough about him. I'm not going to let that happen again. No matter what it takes."

Piper stared after her oldest in surprise as he ran off suddenly and tackled his little brother to the ground. She watched them giggling madly and rolling around in the grass. When they grew tired of rough housing, they ran off and dangled from the jungle gym.

Her little boys may have had the memories of grown men, and at times, it even shone through. But hearing the childish laughter made her realize that they were indeed, simply little boys.

Her gaze shifted to the swings where her youngest had now found his way over to, squealing in delight as his brother pushed him higher. It warmed her heart to see Chris so happy. He wasn't like that at all when he came back from the future shortly before he died there. He had such an inherent sadness in him back then.

And Piper saw it , even then. Knew something was amiss, but still tried her damnedest to refute it-. Now Piper couldn't deny that she had been the cause of it. Her future self had made sure of it. Once again, the guilt weighed down heavily on her shoulders. Piper couldn't believe that she ever thought that changing him was the solution.

She remembered the first time he came to them from the future. He had a fire and determination that screamed 'Halliwell' through and through. And if you looked deep enough, just under his fictitious mask of indifference, you could see the depths of compassion and strength.

You could see that he would do anything for his family. Even if it meant giving up who he was. Piper looked away at that thought, her face blushing with shame and tears. She couldn't allow that to happen again. It was time that she returned the favor, even if it meant living in constant fear for the next few decades. She couldn't allow herself to be guided by the fear that someone or something would come by and snatch his life right out from under them.

No, none of that could be allowed to come to pass. Piper and her family would just have to be diligent in protecting Chris. She turned back to her boys playing, and noticed the little blonde watching her with a carefully guarded expression. He smiled and waived, and she thought with relief, 'at least we'll have help.'

TBC…Epilog


	11. Epilog

Unplanned Changes.

Epilog.

By teallover

Sorry this took so long, but I've been having some major computer problems. I even had to type this on another computer. So I haven't had a chance to respond to the last chapter's reviews. But I promise to that as soon as possible. So for now—the Epilog

Thanks for all of your wonderful comments so far, and thanks for sticking with me throughout this really long process. Please let me know what you think:)

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_20 years later._

Wyatt strolled casually into the kitchen of his parent's home, feeling as welcome rifling through their refrigerator as he ever did in his own apartment that he shared with his brother. His eyes bulged as he honed in on a home baked lasagna tucked away in the back.

"Oooh. Did you think you could hide from me? Oh no, no, no. Because I'm going to _eat_ you." Wyatt grinned wickedly and stuck his head and hands as far back as they would go to reach the mouth-watering meal.

"Wyatt!" his mothers panicked voice echoed in his mind and startled him. Forgetting where he was, his head shot up and banged the top shelf painfully on his way out.

He wished he could self-heal as he rubbed the now sore spot on his head and went to find his mother, whose shrill voice was even louder now. "Mom, what's wrong?"

Piper whipped her head around, "I can't find Chris. He's not answering my calls, or his phone—or. What? Why are you laughing? This isn't funny! He could be hurt—or..."

"Mom, calm down, ok? You know Verizon may have expanded their network, but somehow, I don't think it includes the underworld."

At her look of confusion, Wyatt smiled calmly and explained. "Today is the day that Chris and a few of the other professors are taking the Magic School Graduates down to the Underworld on a field trip? Remember? They do this every year."

Piper sighed softly. "Oh. Well I still don't like it. He could be in danger and we'd never know it."

"I think that's his middle name," Wyatt grinned with amusement as he thought of the change in growing up with his brother this time around.

Gone was the timid, hesitant, and acquiescent little brother. And he was glad for it too. This Chris didn't hold anything back. He was vivacious, outgoing, and to be honest—a hell of a lot more fun now too, Wyatt mused. The energy and strength radiated from him the moment he walked into a room. It made you stand up and take notice; follow when he led. Though Chris was always quick to joke that it was because he was "so damn pretty", and "wasn't it just such a shame that all of the looks in the family skipped over his sibling and went straight for him?"

Wyatt wrapped his arm around his mother and reassured her, "Don't worry, Mom. I keep a connection to him all the time. He's fine. In fact, if there was a postcard for the Underworld, he'd send a picture of fire and brimstone on the front, and on the back it would read something like, _having a blast—literally. Wish you were here."_

Piper smiled fondly as she thought about it. _Yeah, Chris would do something like that. _"I guess you're right. That's Chris in a nutshell. But you know I just get so worried—especially now that he's reached the age when you and my future self said he died."

"I know, mom. But you changed all of that. He's happy now. You let him grow up to be who he was meant to be." The blond grinned as he suddenly felt the familiar presence near by. "And if that just happens to be a somewhat cocky, obnoxious--"

"Somebody talking about me?" Chris asked with one eyebrow up as he sauntered into the kitchen, kissed his mom on the cheek and made a beeline for the refrigerator. "Ooh, lasagna."

Piper followed her youngest and frowned, trying to disguise her features from the worry she felt. "Are you ok? How did it go?"

Chris shrugged non-chalantly and pulled out the pan that his brother had been so unsuccessfully at grabbing earlier. "I'm fine Mom. And as far as how it went, well—lets just say that some of the graduates will be taking summer classes if they want me to sign off on their diplomas."

He held the pan out to this older brother, giving him his best wide-eyed, hopeful expression—one that he knew his big brother had never been able to say no to.

Wyatt shook his head, but still waived his hand over the pan, heating its contents instantly with a a controlled burst of energy. '_Better than a microwave' Chris always said. _

Chris spooned enough for the three of them before staring at his brother questioningly. "what are you doing here, anyway?"

"Probably the same as you," The older of the two crossed his arms and stared back pointedly.

Piper smiled fondly at her two boys and finished their unspoken sentence. "Raiding my refrigerator. Didn't you two get enough of that in college?"

Chris feigned surprise. "No way, Mom. I had to. I haven't had a decent home cooked meal since I was here _last week_."

Wyatt shoved him indignantly. "Hey! I made dinner a few nights ago."

Both Piper and Chris shared a look before turning away from the tall blond, humming and scratching their heads while pretending not to have heard his last statement. The oldest Halliwell boy's culinary skills—or lack thereof—were infamous in the Halliwell household. Unless you were purposely trying to diet, you didn't touch the stuff.

Wyatt sucked his teeth and stood up, ignoring their quiet mocking. "Alright. You know what? I don't have to take this kind of abuse. I'm going home!" he declared as he stomped away, grabbing his things on the way out.

Piper couldn't help the tiny giggle that escaped and accompanied a slightly guilty look as soon as he was gone. "He's such a drama queen. He had to have gotten that from Phoebe."

Chris nodded sympathetically as he rose from the table. "Yeah, but unfortunately, the overgrown teddy bear tends to get his feelings hurt easily. So I'm gonna' go after him. We still on for Grampa's birthday dinner Tuesday?"

"You bet I'll even make sure Wyatt or your father don't help me with the cooking."

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Chris orbed out in search of his sibling, sighing loudly at finding him sprawled out on the couch—doing his best wounded puppy interpretation. He plopped down next to him. If he didn't know better, he would have felt sorry for the older man. But since he did—he broke out into a grin instead. "Did you get it?"

Wyatt's expression went from wounded puppy to sly dog in less time than it took to blink. He threw his head back before his gaze shifted to the kitchen counter.

Chris grinned even wider when he saw the almost full pan of lasagna that his brother had lifted from their family home. "We'll eat good tonight, Wy."

"More like the next few nights."

"When do you think she'll catch on?"

"Sooner or later," Wyatt told him confidently.

They shared a mischievous grin as their hands slowly rose to cover their ears. Chris began the countdown. "3...2...1--"

"_WYATT MATTHEW HALLIWELL! You bring that back here right now, do you hear me?! I know you hear me!----"_

The elder witch tuned his mother's ranting out and asked in annoyance. "Hey? How come she never yells _your _name like a banshee?"

The brunette batted his long eyelashes innocently. "Because _I'm _her angel. I can do no wrong."

Wyatt snorted, "That's cause you're a momma's boy. Let's not forget that this little heist was all _your _idea."

"Maybe I am. But what does that make you, 'Mr. I want mommy to tuck me in at the age of 13!"

The older man narrowed his eyes indignantly before lowered his head in an embarrassed concession. "Yeah. Well. No comment." He elbowed his brother playfully and grabbed a couple of forks.

They both dug into the pan to claim the dish, fully aware that Piper wouldn't want it back once they double-dipped into it without a fresh utensil. He couldn't help the fond smile that tugged at the corners of his lips as Chris sighed contentedly.

Piper Halliwell's home baked lasagna was one of Chris' favorite comfort foods, and she made sure to make it often for him. Wyatt used to wonder if it was out of a genuine fondness for the younger boy, or a fear of loosing him. But as time went on, he came to realize that his misguided family were just that--misguided.

None of it really mattered anymore. He and Chris were both loved, and felt it in abundance.

And if it took a little trip to the past to scare the crap out of them with the threat of losing the younger Halliwell, then so be it.

After all, it worked.

All it took was a little _Unplanned Change_.

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The end.


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